


Remnants

by Legume_Shadow



Series: Legends of the Revolution [18]
Category: Peacemaker Kurogane, Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, BAMFs, Gen, Post-Jinchuu Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 133,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven years into the Meiji, it seems that peace is finally here to stay.  However, a series of murders in erupts in Kyoto, just as Himura Kenshin and his wife, Kaoru arrive in Kyoto for their annual visit to Tomoe's grave.  As Kenshin and the Oniwabanshuu are caught up in the whirlwind, other acquaintances from long ago are pulled in with them.  Unbeknownst to all of them, what had been wrongly wrought the past by ex-Shinsengumi member, Ichimura Tetsunosuke is about to return in forms more terrifying than any of them have faced during the revolution.</p><p>This is a sequel to Echoes: A Peacemaker Kurogane and Rurouni Kenshin Crossover (series).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Publishing: Jan 2013, AO3  
> Disclaimer: All characters (except for the ones created by me) belong to their respective owners. No profit is being made from this work of fiction.
> 
> Note: Readers do not have to read the first series: Echoes, but it may help readers get oriented with characters/situations/why the hell are certain characters alive.

**Chapter 1**

_Past: Late Autumn/Early Winter, 1868_

 

Roiling seas surrounded the eight ship fleet commanded by Enomoto Takeaki, sending icy-cold waves crashing upon the decks of the ships, soaking the men unfortunate enough to be on the topside. The gales were in full force, and it was a dangerous time to cross the sea between the mainland and the destination of this rogue fleet, the island of Hokkaido. However, the seasoned men of the sea held no pause at the sight of the enormous waves and continued to take in sail per their captains' orders, but down below, where land troops and those who still believed in their freedom from the Imperial Army were sitting, huddle for warmth, was a different story.

Tetsu staggered up from where he was sitting by Hijikata's side as he suddenly felt queasy and dizzy from the rocking of the ship. He barely made it to the barrel that was already half-full of noxious and sharp-smelling liquid before his stomach could not hold it anymore and vomited. Holding the sides of the barrel as if his life depended on it, he took an unfortunate whiff of the barrel's contents and promptly threw up again.

Turning his head away for a moment, he took a breath, feeling his stomach finally settle for a bit before wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The western uniform that he was wearing was already damp from the salty water, and so he tasted it as he licked his dry lips. There was no other way, he kept telling himself as he made his way back to where he had been sitting, pausing every so often to let the roll of the ship carry over before walking again. It was the only way they could escape the clutches of the Imperial Army and start anew.

“Your son, he does not have what do you call it...sea legs?” Tetsu heard a heavily accented question asked in Japanese by the dark-haired man with a curious-looking mustache as he took his seat, feeling much better...at least until his stomach decided to rebel again, which would probably be in two or three hours.

“Ah, no, Buruneto-san. I'm afraid that he does not have his 'sea legs' just yet,” he heard Hijikata say as he closed his eyes briefly to listen not only to his master but also to the pounding waves outside.

He and Hijikata, along with what was left of the Shinsengumi after they had escaped to Sendai, following the surrender of Aizu on the wake of Edo's takeover, had joined forces with other straggler forces determined to not submit to Imperial rule. Surprisingly, a small contingency of French forces, commanded by Jules Brunet, had accompanied them, and though all of the foreigners spoke heavily accented Japanese and were able to communicate with the rest of the ex-Shogunate forces, they kept to their own. However, Brunet had strangely taken a seat away from his comrades, choosing to sit right beside Hijikata. Tetsu found that peculiar, but there seemed to be nothing threatening from the man and Hijikata did not seem on edge at all, so he didn't worry.

As the lull of Hijikata quietly talking with Brunet continued on, Tetsu found that he could not find the urge to stay awake and listen. Days upon end of exhaustion through fighting, escaping, and running from the Imperial forces had taken its toll on him, and now, for the first time, he was in an enclosed space, with enough of the rough sea between him and danger. He fought to stay awake – he wanted to listen, to learn, and to protect his master from any threats – Hijikata was the only one left of the Shinsengumi that he knew of from the halcyon days. If Hijikata died, he would be all alone, and that thought crushed him.

But sleep was tugging at the edges of his mind, and his eyelids started to droop. Soon, his body gave up the fight and he felt himself slip into a warm blanket of a dreamless sleep, with the last of his conscious thoughts being that Hijikata had not corrected Brunet's initial assumption of their relationship.

_Son... not page..._

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

The hot summer heat was beating down on the residents of Kyoto, but most of them were not minding it and instead, enjoyed the many celebrations that marked the annual month-long Gion Festival. A young woman dressed in light blue-colored linen clothes with a rice-picker's hat over her long-braided black hair skipped along the roads of the great and ancient city, heading towards the train station. Kyoto Station had been opened only over two years prior and had not seem much usage by the populace – with most seeing it as a nuisance and an expensive frivolity – but after Shishio Makoto's ship had sunk in Osaka Bay last summer, which had jammed up most of the smaller ships that ran the canals from Osaka to Kyoto, people became more amenable to the railway station. Prices for riding the train dropped with the surging demand, for most found it to be a faster transport than carriages that ferried people to and from Osaka to Kyoto.

Two of the many people that would be riding on the train that ran back and forth from the two cities were friends that she had not seen in a while. Just as she arrived at the station, she could hear the loud steam-powered whistle blow that was mingled with the high-pitched squeaks of the brakes being applied to the monstrous black machine. Up until only a few years ago, most people had not even seen this western-imported contraption and though it had initially frightened them, now people were going about their lives, almost used to the sounds it created.

As the stream of people exited the train and passed through the station, she could hear the neatly-uniformed conductors shouting orders to each other to reload coal and water onto the great mechanical beast. In the stream of people, was easy to pick out one of the two people she was expecting, for the red-brown hair that the person wore was always quite distinct amongst the sea of dark-haired people.

“Himura!” she shouted, raising the hat from her head and waved it in the air. She grinned as she saw both Himura Kenshin and his wife, Kaoru, smile towards her while Kaoru gave a small wave of her hand.

“Misao-chan!” Kaoru said, giving her a hug as soon as Kenshin and her finally made it through the crowds to stand before the boisterous young woman. “It's been too long! How are you?”

“Eh, same-old, same-old,” she said, laughing as Kaoru let go and stepped back. “Come on! Ji-ya and the others are waiting for you two! After you guys skipped out on the Great Kyoto Tour last year, we want to make sure that you enjoy it this time!” As if she couldn't emphasize just how glad everyone at the Aoiya was that Kenshin and Kaoru would be back in Kyoto for a visit, no matter how brief, she grabbed both of their hands with her own and promptly started to drag them from the station proper and back into the streets.

“Maa maa, Misao-chan!” she heard Kenshin protest as she continued to drag them. “We're only staying for three days. I don't think we'll have time for the tour, that it is.”

“Then we'll cram it into one day!” she crowed, letting them go as she turned around and gave them a big smile, with it getting wider as she saw the exasperated look on Kenshin's face. Kaoru merely had a serene look on her face and Makimachi Misao knew that perhaps, the two would finally take the Aoiya's offer on a quick tour of Kyoto.

* * *

 _Three days, and then I will not have to set foot in this ancient place for another year,_ Kenshin thought to himself as he let Misao's chipper chattering fill the air that was occasionally answered by some question from Kaoru or an affirmation. The walk from the train station to the Aoiya, in the central area of Kyoto, was not long, but it wasn't as short as he hoped either. He was extremely glad that his wife had taken the initiative to lead Misao's comments and questions about their life so far, away from him and focused it on her, allowing him to meditate as best as he could to push away the dark memories that threatened to surface.

Three days, that was all he was willing to stay for in Kyoto. One was for today, and tomorrow, he and Kaoru would go visit Tomoe's grave before they would go up Arashiyama to visit his master. The third and final day was an open day, but it was because they could only get tickets for the train back to Tokyo near the evening. All of the morning train tickets had been sold out by the time they had brought their round-trip tickets. The city brought back too many old memories, but it was his vow to Tomoe's grave last year that he would visit her at least once a year that brought him here now. He intended to keep it for as long as he was alive.

He shook his head slightly to rid himself of his thoughts as he and the other two women stopped and he looked up and around before hearing Misao say, “This is the new Aoiya! How do you like it?”

Kenshin couldn't help but smile as he saw that not only the double-roofing and blue-colored tiles were back on the building, it looked bigger than it used to be. His answer to that unspoken question was given when Misao continued to say, “When we renovated, we took over a couple of other shops' space since the owners had decided to move away after Shishio's attack. So now we have a bigger seating area for the restaurant and a lot more rooms to rent out.”

“It's very nice, Misao-chan,” Kaoru said.

“That it is,” he agreed, as Misao tromped in and bellowed in a rather loud voice saying, “Ji-ya! They're here!”

As the two followed the young woman in, Kenshin was grateful for the fact that at least the restaurant portion of the Aoiya was not populated with people at this time of day so that he and his wife only had to face the stares of some patrons who were giving them bewildered looks. However, as quickly as those bewildered looks came, they quickly slid into a slightly fearful look as most of the patrons noticed the scabbard and the hilt of his sakabatou at his side. That fearful look was slightly eased as the equally boisterous, if not downright strangeness of Kashiwazaki Nenji, or otherwise known as Okina to those who worked at the Aoiya, appeared from the kitchens.

“Himura-dono! Welcome!” the old, goateed man greeted, eyes lighting up as he approached and gave a bow towards them, welcoming them into the establishment. “Come, come, let me show you your rooms.” To Misao, Kenshin heard him say, “Misao-chan, please heat up the bath. Our guests have had a long and tiring journey.”

“On it, Ji-ya!” Misao answered, but before she moved away, she asked, “Where's Aoshi-sama, Jiya? I thought he said he was going to be here for the rest of the day.”

“Oh,” the old man said, giving a rather flippant shrug of his shoulders, “Your aunt summoned him to the police station for something. Don't worry, he'll probably be back before dinner.”

“But--”

“Misao-chan,” the old man said, slightly exasperated, though Kenshin thought he could hear an edge in the old man's tone, as if he wished that Misao would not press any further. However, Misao did not and scampered away to go heat up the baths.

As soon as they were on the second floor of the restaurant-inn, Kenshin quietly asked, “Is there something wrong between Aoshi and Misao-chan?”

“No there isn't,” Okina answered in a more serious, but still quiet tone. “You may have noticed last year that Misao's aunt works with the police. The police have never involved the Oniwabanshuu in their affairs with the exception of that time when Shishio tried to burn the city... Ah, you don't need to worry yourself, Himura-dono. Please, enjoy your stay in Kyoto and don't worry about us. Like I told Misao-chan, Aoshi will probably be back before dinner. He may not say or show it, but he is glad that both of you have come to visit, even if its only for a short while.”

Kenshin nodded, only for the sake of appeasing their host, though inside, he was curious. He had only met Misao's aunt once during his time in Kyoto last year, and it was during the aftermath of Shishio's attack and clean up of the Aoiya. That was also when he had found out Misao's aunt's name, and he realized that he knew the woman only by reputation long ago – as an assassin for the Shogunate. He and Matsumoto Aya had never crossed paths during the bloody revolution, but that did not mean that reputations of assassins on both sides were circulated through meetings with the planners and schemers. Udou Jin'e was known in the Ishinshishi circles as a crazy killer nobody wanted to encounter in an alleyway, but just mentioning Matsumoto's name was enough to actually stop a few of the high-ranking Ishinshishi from entering certain cities during the revolution.

Now, Matsumoto was working with the Kyoto Police in some capacity that he knew not of, and he could not help but be curious as to why Aoshi had been summoned. Aoshi was Oniwabanshuu and an excellent spy – were the Kyoto Police force going to employ the Oniwabanshuu as a branch of their operations? For the sake of Misao and of the future generations, he hoped not – he knew that Aoshi wanted the Oniwabanshuu name to finally rest with the end of a long era and he himself agreed with that sentiment. The age of samurai and shadow agents was over, and Japan deserved the peace.

* * *

A pungent smell of narcotics filled the small, windowless room that looked half like an operating table, and half like an eerie morgue. However, there were lanterns and openly burning torches that lit up the place, but didn't make it any cozier. A small body, no bigger than a young child, was lying on the bare table, clothed in a flower-patterned kimono. The girl's hair was framed around her oval face, giving her an almost peaceful, angelic look. If it were not for the dark-blue tinge to the child's lips that were starting to turn black and the lack of breathing, Shinomori Aoshi would have thought the girl was merely sleeping.

Rigor mortis had already set in for the child, but other after-symptoms of death already had preceded it, hence his relief that it actually smelled like burning firewood and cigarettes in the room. He didn't show that relief though, preferring to keep the mask of stoicism in place. Sawdust had been sprinkled on the floor of the room, absorbing the liquid and fecal matter that had vacated the girl's body, but if he could not identify the poison that had killed her just by searching clues on her body, he would have to collect and analyze the samples from the floor to hopefully find a clue.

Without a glance to the other person standing on the opposite side of the table, casually smoking the cigarette as if this were something routine he had seen everyday, Aoshi carefully turned the girl over to her side, noting at just how cold her body was. He undid the bow of the obi around the girl's kimono and turned her back to take the entire obi off. Folding it carefully, he laid it to the side and unknotted the small ties that held the layers of clothing that the girl wore until he saw skin. Undressing corpses was something he had done numerous times, but it was usually enemies that he rifled through to search for any information that they had. Undressing this dead girl made him feel very uneasy and disgusted, but he kept his cool and continued his work until the girl was completely free of all the layers that went into dressing in a kimono and was exposed for the entire world to see.

He ran a careful eye over the entire front of the body, lifting the small arms to examine the finger nails and composition of the palm of her hands closely before putting the arm down. There was nothing outwardly that he could see that would cause this girl to die. He turned the girl over, this time completely and again, ran his eyes over the body. Nothing.

Flipping the girl over again, this time, he reached into the side of his yukata and drew out a thin metallic needle that was longer than what was used to sew things. Instead of jabbing the side of the body as most would assume to do when trying to assess what exactly killed someone when there were no external signs other than the blackening of lips, Aoshi held the needle over the throat of the girl and jabbed it deep into her. He held the needle there for a few seconds before quickly yanking the needle out.

Blackened blood coated the needle, but as it dripped onto the table, the first layer trickled away to reveal a second layer, and Aoshi felt a chill go through him. If he was right, then how the girl died was by poison, but not any ordinary poison. He however, wanted to doubt himself, and he knew that there was someone with greater expertise on poisons than he who could confirm what exactly killed the girl.

“You know what killed her,” Saitou Hajime stated, as the cigarette in his fingers was dropped into the sawdust and crushed beneath a heel.

When Aoshi had first gotten the summon by a policeman a couple of hours earlier, the message had been written by Aya, but it had been Saitou whom he met in the bowels of the main station. He should not have been surprised to see the ex-Shinsengumi here in Kyoto of all places, having heard through the grapevine that after the debacle with Yukishirou Enishi, Saitou had requested a transfer – though he had not heard of the reasons.

After stopping Shishio, he had taken the time to meditate, but he had not found a want to join the Kyoto Police force, content to stay at the Aoiya and work there as an inn helper and sometimes occasionally helping in the restaurant portion of the place. His former mentor had never bothered to seek help from any of the Oniwabanshuu since the day she had stepped into the police station and began serving as a spymaster for the Kyoto Police force. So when the letter was delivered to him by a rather harried policeman at the entrance of the Aoiya, Aoshi was not only surprised, but also suspicious.

Upon entering the station and meeting Saitou, he had learned that Aya had indeed written the message, but only because Saitou preferred to keep his presence low-key in Kyoto. However, according to Saitou, Aya was not available for what needed to be done in the investigation that Saitou had been assigned – Kyoto Police's spymaster was currently engaged in a national investigation that spanned many cities – hence Saitou calling in him, Aoshi. This meeting also had an underlying meaning that he was not to tell any other person outside of the police that Saitou was in Kyoto. He briefly wondered if Saitou was aware that Himura and his wife were currently in Kyoto for a few days. He mentally shrugged – if Saitou did not want his identity leaked out, then he, Aoshi, would not tell of Himura's presence to either the ex-Shinsengumi or to the police.

Ex-Juppongatana member, Sawagejou Chou, whom he had remembered seeing and apparently working for the police in the aftermath of Shishio's rampage, had also transferred to Kyoto, but was nowhere to be found in the station when he had arrived. He briefly wondered if the broom-headed man was working on this particular investigation with Saitou or if he was roped into another one. Knowing Saitou, Aoshi determined that the ex-Juppongatana was most likely kept on a very short leash and working on this investigation.

“Maybe,” he answered curtly before ripping a tiny piece of cloth from his own clothes, placed the poisoned needle into the cloth and onto the table, and pulled another clean one out. This time, he stabbed the middle of the girl's chest, right below where the two rib plates started to part and flare out to cover the chest cavity. Holding it for a few seconds, he yanked it out and like the previous needle, the first coating of blood dripped down to reveal the second layer, and thus, he had his confirmation.

Wordlessly, he placed the needle on the cloth and dressed the girl up again, ensuring that she looked exactly as she did before he had undressed her. The child's parents were waiting somewhere in the station, and he did not want to hand them back a mutilated or haphazardly dressed body. No one deserved that indignity in death.

“Normal herbal stores won't carry the poison,” he explained as he wrapped the cloth around the needles before picking the tiny bundle back up, knowing that he had to dispose of them somewhere safe so no one else could accidentally be contaminated. “But I would recommend sweeping every store there is in Kyoto. However, I personally don't know what the poison looks like in dry form. Can we not pull the spymaster from her investigation?”

“Apparently not,” Saitou said, frowning ever so slightly in irritation. Rarely had Aoshi ever seen the ex-Shinsengumi captain annoyed, even when they had been working together during the revolution in the Shinsengumi, and this little slip of emotion piqued his interest – just what was his former mentor working on that required several spymasters of various cities to coordinate information? However, he knew that there was no way the police were going to spill their secrets to him or any of the Oniwabanshuu. If he wanted answers, he was going to have to utilize his skills.

“Then there is only one other person that could possibly help us and he's in Tokyo.”

* * *

“Thank you, Yamazaki-sensei,” the old man said, bowing quite gratefully before taking the small packet of prepared medicine with him and left the clinic. Susumu slid the front entrance to the clinic closed, grateful for the small break, as it was getting close to dinner time and he had not had anything to eat since the morning.

With the full swing of summer already bearing down on Tokyo, most of his younger and more able-bodied patients had either left Tokyo to enjoy cooler weather up north or spend their time visiting family members who did not live in Tokyo. It was the elderly that he had seen most, since they suffered the most from the heat. All he could advise them to do was to sit in the shade as much as possible and drink a lot of water. Some though, he prescribed some herbal medicine for itches that came with being bitten by insects.

As he wandered to the kitchen of his clinic that also doubled as his house, he started a small fire under the pot of water and began to prepare dinner for himself. A half-hour later, a modest dinner of rice, fish, miso soup, and some boiled vegetables was ready. He was half-way through his dinner when there was an energetic pounding at his door.

“Yamazaki-sensei!” a voice called out. “Yamazaki-sensei, open up! It's the police!”

He was already scrambling towards the door when the second call of his name was being shouted and flung the clinic's door open to revel a lone, but quite harried policeman. Said policeman thrust a piece of telegraph paper towards him and he took it, quickly opening it and read through it.

“A train ticket for Kyoto has already been purchased for you and leaves in one hour. A policeman will meet you at the station to give you your ticket. You will arrive in Kyoto early in the morning, Yamazaki-sensei,” the policeman said.

“Understood,” he said, even though he was reluctant to even go to Kyoto, despite the request. Dr. Gensai was already overwhelmed with patients ever since Dr. Takani had moved back to Aizu, and for him to go now was not fair to either his own patients or to Dr. Gensai. He had tried to help alleviate the doctor's flood of patients by taking a few of them into his own clinic. But the fact that a train ticket for the overnight train to Kyoto had been brought even before he had read the message meant that Aoshi was not making this optional – it was an order.

Considering that Susumu had not had frequent contacts with his former group after he had decided to quit during the Boshin War when Edo was just about to surrender, he knew that he could refuse to go. His last contact with the Oniwabanshuu and Kyoto in general was last summer, in the aftermath of Shishio Makoto's rampage. It had only been to ensure that his friends were all right. He had no reason to acquiesce to Aoshi's request, especially since it came through the police's telegraph line, but to not do, he knew would cause the police quite a bit of a headache.

“Are there any more details that you can give me before I leave?” he asked.

“Apologies, Yamazaki-sensei, but that was all we received. We will try to acquire more, but please do not hope for it.”

“Thank you,” he said, and the policeman gave a hasty bow towards him before quickly leaving.

Stepping back inside, he shut the door and headed towards the kitchen. Regretfully, he dumped the rest of his dinner out and quickly cleaned up the cookware, utensils and bowls. Ensuring that the previously burning fire that heated the pots was sufficiently doused and not burning, he made his way into his room and started to pack. There were two sacks that he would be carrying; one would be some changes of clothes, and the other would be a medicine bag that would be full of his medical utensils, packets of herbs, and other items such as bandages, that he would possibly need.

A half-hour later, he stepped out of his clinic and closed the door, putting a wooden dowel to ensure that no one would accidentally open it and step into the empty place. A sign had been tacked to the door which directed all of his patients to Dr. Gensai, and he started off, heading towards the good doctor's clinic.

It was not Dr. Gensai, but his grandchildren that greeted him as soon as he knocked on the door. With cries of “Yamazaki-sensei!” they gave giggly grins towards him and then ran off to get their grandfather. Moments later, Dr. Gensai appeared and though he had a pleasant expression on his face, Susumu did notice that the elder doctor's eyes had tracked over the items he was carrying.

“Apologies for doing this to you, Gensai-sensei,” he said, bowing towards the old man. “I have been called down to Kyoto by Shinomori Aoshi-san and will be leaving tonight. I do not know when I will return, but I'm hoping sooner than later.”

“Does it have to do with Himura-san or his wife?” Dr. Gensai asked, brows furrowing in concern.

“I don't think so,” he stated. “The telegraph that I received did not say anything of the sort, but if it does, then I will let you know.” After Dr. Takani had left, Dr. Gensai became the Himura family's primary doctor, though he, Susumu, had sometimes taken care of the family whenever Dr. Gensai was unavailable.

“Is there anything I need to know about any of your current patients?” Dr. Gensai asked.

“Not currently. Sato-san and Tanaka-san have both been prescribed some medication to help alleviate their itchy symptoms from insect bites,” he answered. “All of my other patients are in good health. Shirou-sensei and his apprentice left for Kyoto this morning and are walking. They said that they will be back in three weeks. Shirou-sensei should have enough medication for a month, but if I do not return before he returns, please contact me for the prescription.”

The old doctor nodded and after a moment said, “Safe journeys to Kyoto, Yamazaki-sensei. Please do not worry about your patients; they are in good hands.”

“Thank you, Gensai-sensei,” he answered, bowing and left.

With ten minutes to spare, Susumu made it to the station and was immediately escorted onto the crowded overnight train by the police. A few curious people glanced at him, but once he was settled, the police left and the train started to move a few minutes later. He settled back and closed his eyes. His request for more information about why exactly Aoshi needed him in Kyoto had not come, and he could only hope that whatever it was, the Oniwabanshuu and his friends were all right.

  
~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this is my first fic that I'm exclusively posting to AO3, so it will have more author's notes/comments than all of my others ones (others were posted to various other sites/places).
> 
> Most of the primary characters have already been introduced in the first chapter...a couple will be introduced later, and as the tags suggest, there will be spoiler characters, so they're not going to be tagged.
> 
> You may notice that Jules Brunet sounds familiar...he should. In real-life, he was the French commander of the forces and second-in-command of the Ezo Republic. He was also the inspiration for The Last Samurai's Nathan Algren.
> 
> If you didn't already notice from my last series, I'm a huge fan of intertwining real-life historical figures/situations that were not depicted in either PMK (manga and anime) or RK (manga, anime, live-action) in with fictional figures. Also, apologies if Hijikata starts reflecting Hakuoki's Hijikata...I just recently finished watching that series...I will try my best to keep him in-character per PMK.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Past: Winter, 1868_

 

Despite the controlled chaos that had seemingly gripped the dingy hospital where many men had found themselves lying in, Tetsu found himself not panicking at all as he rushed from bed to bed, administering what the doctors had ordered him to do. He chalked it up to the fact that he had seen and lived through so much worse that he did not freeze up as more men suddenly poured into the hospital, supported by their comrades, coughing, sneezing, and generally looking quite ill.

A very vicious illness was sweeping through the ranks of what was left of the former Shogunate forces, and though doctors had declared it to be a cold and nothing horrendous that needed total quarantine like tuberculosis, more and more soldiers were brought to the hospital for treatment. Tetsu himself was fortunate that he had not caught the illness yet, even though he was wearing a face covering while tending to the patients.

“Come on,” he said, lifting up his latest patient and took the warm cup of tea that had crushed herbs mixed into it, and slowly poured the medicine down the man's throat.

He could see the dark circles under his current patient's eyes as the man fought day and night, trying to get rid of the illness. Only a handful of men had actually succumbed to the illness, and the only sign they left behind on their still bodies was blue-black lips that looked like they had frozen to death. However, those who survived the days and nights of fevers and sweats were still weak enough that they could not go back to their duties for many days.

He placed his patient back down and pulled the covers back up before placing the empty cup on the tray that was sitting on one of the western chairs that littered the hospital. Looking around, he could feel the despair tugging at him – if the winter on this island didn't kill them first, then the illness and just how fast it spread would; it would make them completely vulnerable if the Imperial Army decided to attack during the middle of winter.

“Hey, Ichimura!” he heard one of the aides call out his name. Turning, he saw one of the aides approaching as the aide continued to say, “Hijikata- _kyokuchou_ is looking for you. He's relocated to a temporary room at the new governmental hall. I'll take care of the rest of them for you.”

“Thanks!” he said, and hurried off. He grabbed the western-uniform jacket that he had shed near the door to the hospital and threw it on, just as he emerged into a raging snowstorm that seemingly blanketed the place. His shoes, which he had thankfully put on before stepping outside, sunk in the snow until he was nearly knee-deep. He waded through the cold as best as he could, anchoring himself to the spot whenever a gust of wind threatened to blow him over. Squinting, he slowly made his way towards where he had seen the governmental hall this morning before the snowstorm had arrived.

After a while, with his entire body completely numb and almost unable to feel or see anything through ice-crusted hair and clothes, he bumped into something. Brushing as best as he could with shaking hands and arms that almost refused to move, he managed to find the latch to the door and squeaked it open.

Stumbling in, he managed to shut the door before finally taking a look up to see several foreigners and some soldiers staring at him before muttering a few choice words and moving on. Tetsu managed to dislodge his frozen feet from his shoes and left them at the door, before patting himself down as best as possible, though he knew it was impossible and that he would leave a trail of melting snow behind him. There was no place for him to discard his jacket so that it would not soak into the floor, and so he left it on and made his way into the government hall.

He asked a few people where Hijikata was, and was pointed in the direction of Hijikata's room. With his body still frozen stiff, the walk was long, but he finally made it to his master's suite and politely knocked on the wooden door as he had seen many of the Frenchmen do. He thought he heard what sounded like a muffled command for him to enter and opened the western-door to find Hijikata sitting on a chair near the fireplace, reading a few heavily-worded leaflets of paper.

“Ichimura!” Hijikata said as he saw his master look up, the slightly surprised expression disappearing so fast from his face that Tetsu was not sure if he saw it or not. “I thought I told that aide to tell you to stay at the hospital until the snowstorm died down – not to come now.”

Tetsu merely shrugged, puzzled as to why the aide had not told him that, but he wasn't about to argue that small fact. He was instead, further surprised when he heard his master say, “Get over here, now!”

He obliged, wondering what had put Hijikata into a foul mood, but suddenly felt his jacket being tugged off and hung by the fireplace. He looked up to see that Hijikata had gotten up, with the leaflets of paper fluttering to the ground as his master grabbed a woolen blanket off the nearest bed and slung it over him. Tetsu was then unceremoniously shoved closer to the fireplace and ordered to stay there as he saw his master rummage through western dresser before pulling out a thick, double-weaved hakama and uwagi. He was handed the clothes and wordlessly, he changed out of his snow-soaked clothes.

As soon as he was done knotting the outfit together and had slid his daishou into their proper place on the left side, he silently hung up the wet clothes near the fireplace, taking care to not put them close enough to accidentally light them on fire. Re-wrapping the slightly damp blanket back around himself, he turned to see that Hijikata had resumed sitting on the chair and had picked up the leaflets from the floor.

“ _Kyokuchou_ , would you like me to get you some tea?” he asked after a moment.

“No,” Hijikata bluntly replied before Tetsu saw him take one of the leaflets that he had been reading through and held it out toward him. “I need you to familiarize yourself with this for tomorrow, Ichimura.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, taking the leaflet and sat down on the ground to read it.

“How are your skills in understanding French and English, Ichimura?” he heard Hijikata ask after a few minutes of silent reading with only the crackling fireplace breaking the silence.

“Okay,” he truthfully answered. “I still can't understand everything that they say, especially if they speak fast, but I think I can understand enough to translate.”

“Good,” Hijikata said, and he looked up to see his master nod once, continuing to read whatever was in his hands. “I need you by my side tomorrow. Though we're not formally established yet, the Ezo Republic are starting negotiations with the small trading colonies on this island and I need you there to help translate or clarify.”

“Maybe we can barter for some western medicines they might have,” he said, glad that his skills in understanding the foreigners was being put to use again. It was only when Hijikata needed translations to be made, either by paper or by conversations, that Tetsu felt he was helping the most.

Very rarely did Hijikata even ask him to do anything else, especially during battles. The conflicts in Aizu before they had been driven up to Sendai was the first time Tetsu had actually discharged a rifle, and even then, most of the time, he had been tasked to help the injured. Those times, he had also been grateful that he had learned some basic field medicine from Susumu before they had parted ways in Edo.

“How many died today?” Hijikata asked.

“None so far,” he replied.

“And they all still look like they've frozen to death with blue or black lips?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. He wanted to press his master for more answers, for he suspected that Hijikata may have had an inkling as to what the illness that had claimed a few of the soldiers was, but the way Hijikata's lips thinned in displeasure and anger every single time he asked about the health of the men prevented Tetsu from asking. Despite all they had been through, he still feared Hijikata's anger.

This time, however, his master looked like he wanted to say something, but then thought against saying it and instead, Tetsu heard him say, “ _When_ you're sufficiently warmed up, bring two cups of tea.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Early morning was an understatement as to the time that the night-train from Tokyo arrived in Kyoto. Even though the daylight hours were longer in the summer, the sun had not even risen yet and dawn was only breaking when the train screeched to a halt at Kyoto Station. It was that screech that woke Susumu up, and as he rolled his neck and shoulders to get rid of the aches from sleeping upright, he looked around.

Other patrons were just as jolted as he was about the fairly noisy wake up call, but a few of them looked as if they were used to such noise and merely started to stretch and collect their items before disembarking.

He did the same too, noting that everything was still secure in his medical bag, even though the jolt had been rough. As he disembarked, he heard the shouts of the conductors ordering coal and water, and though he was tempted to ask one of them to direct him to the nearest police station, since this was a part of Kyoto that he had never step foot in and and did not recognize all the new buildings that had sprung around the station, he refrained from doing so. The conductors looked extremely busy and looked like they were on a tight schedule, so he continued forward with the stream of people, making his way through the station and out into the enormous courtyard.

Here, even though it was still dark, lantern and the newfangled western gas lamps were lighting the area, and it was fairly crowded, despite the time of day. Carriages with horses whinnying nervously, along with many pulled rickshaws dotted the courtyard, and Susumu briefly wondered if Kyoto became a city that never slept. He could say the same about Tokyo, especially the main hubs where trade and transport met, but at least the area where he lived and worked in was a quiet one when night time fell.

“Yamazaki-sensei, Yamazaki-sensei!” a voice called out, and he turned slightly to see a young policeman hurry up to him. “Please come with me. There is a carriage waiting for you.”

 _Paid train ticket by the government, carriage waiting for me via the Kyoto Police_ , he mused to himself as he followed the policeman towards the line of carriages with impatient horses tethered to them. _What the hell is going on_?

He spotted a uniformed policeman sitting in the driver's chair amongst the sea of carriages and the policeman he was following hurried towards it. He was mildly surprised as the policeman politely opened the carriage door, gesturing for him to go in. As he climbed in, he nearly stopped short of completing his action as he saw exactly who was already sitting in the carriage. Calmly smoking a cigarette with an indifferent expression on his face that was barely illuminated by the lanterns that hung from the side of the carriage, was Saitou Hajime.

Susumu mentally sighed and climbed all the way in, settling himself opposite of the carriage. As the door closed, he felt a small rocking motion that told him that they were beginning to move. He should have known that if Aoshi was going to call him down, Saitou would be involved. He knew that Aoshi had absolutely no involvement with the police and that Saitou had transferred from Tokyo to somewhere else. That somewhere else looked to be Kyoto.

“A child was poisoned yesterday afternoon,” Saitou said in an almost bored tone, but Susumu heard the faintest flicker of impatience in that tone and remained silent. As a former comrade of Saitou's during their time in the Shinsengumi, he had learned to read the man very well, and that faintest hint of impatience told him that Saitou was being driven by his own sense of justice in this investigation and wanted answers now. “There were absolutely no blemishes or splotches on her skin except that her lips were black. Her parents do not know how she was poisoned, since they were drinking tea when she suddenly convulsed and died within minutes. The doctors we consulted could not identify the poison, so we called in Shinomori. He was able to identify it, but he does not know what the dry form of the poison looks like.”

Susumu saw one of Saitou's white-gloved hands uncurl, revealing that he was holding a piece of rolled up cloth. Wordlessly, he took the piece of cloth and carefully unfolded it, feeling two long needle-like objects wrapped up in it. Holding it up to the window of the carriage where the dim lantern light was shining through, his eyes widened as he saw what exactly was on the needles.

_It can't be!_

“You weren't there with us in Edo when the Shinsengumi were conferred as _hatamoto_ , were you?” he asked, even though he knew for sure that Saitou was not present during that period of time.

Saitou merely snorted before taking another long drag out of his cigarette, blowing the smoke upwards. “Of course not. Why even ask that question when you know that I wasn't there? I know you're not an idiot, Yamazaki, unlike others that I've met.”

Susumu ignored the jab as he placed the needles back onto the cloth and wrapped the ensemble up. “I don't know you were told, but that child was poisoned with the same poison that was used to kill our former _Okashira_ after Aoshi was confirmed as the Oniwabanshuu's leader. It's western imported. Why do you need me? I thought Aya was the spymaster for Kyoto. She's seen the dry form before.”

“Kyoto's spymaster is currently occupied with an investigation that I am not allowed to pull her from,” Saitou said, but did not elaborate.

“Do you have a list of all herbalists in Kyoto that I can look at?” Susumu asked, deciding not to press any further, since he knew that even if he asked, the police were not going to give him any further information as to what his friend was working on.

“We have a map marking out all known locations,” Saitou replied before taking another drag out of his cigarette and then quashed the burning end in his other hand. “Four more children were found in similar conditions throughout the night before you arrived. We have one of the more recent children being studied upon right now, and the other four have been returned to their families for burial. For now, it seems like it is one isolated region of the city, and therefore, we are calling this a poisoned water supply for that area, but once the poisoner starts preying on other victims in other areas of the city, we will not be able to maintain the story.”

“And it doesn't help that this is one of the busiest times of the year for Kyoto,” Susumu murmured, to which he heard Saitou snort. “I'm assuming that while Aoshi and I are searching for the shop that is distributing the poison, you and your people will be hunting down the killer?”

There was a barely perceptible nod from Saitou, and Susumu could not help but think to himself that it felt just like the days during the revolution, when things were much more violent and a wash of fear gripped the city everyday. Someone or some people were trying to return that fear into the hearts of Kyoto's citizens, but damned if he, Susumu, was going to let that happen again, especially to the children, the next generation. There was enough blood on the grounds of Kyoto to last several generations.

* * *

“Where's Aoshi-sama?”

Kenshin could not help but smile to himself as he heard the familiar pleading tone of Misao say to the old proprietor of the Aoiya. As he stepped out of the room that he and Kaoru were staying in (Kenshin had tried to pay for rental of the room, but the old proprietor had strongly insisted that they stay free), he looked over the railings of the second floor and towards the ground. Near the entrance to the kitchen was Misao with a very put-out look on her face. He supposed it was a good thing that there were virtually no patrons around, even though it was a bright morning and the summer heat had not started to warm up the day just yet.

“Poor Misao-chan,” Kaoru spoke up from beside him as she closed the partition to their room, dressed in a simple, but flowered-patterned summer kimono.

Both of them heard Kashiwazaki sigh in exasperation as he said, “Misao-chan, Aoshi's working...I'm sure he'll be back for lunch.”

“But he didn't even come home for dinner yesterday!” Misao protested with an almost whine to the tone of her voice. “He didn't come back at all last night! Neither did Aya-oba! Obasan's never done that before.”

“It must be a pretty big investigation if either of them haven't returned here, Misao-chan,” the old man said in a reassuring tone. “Just let them do their work and let them keep Kyoto safe. Don't worry, I'm sure they're fine.”

Before Misao could protest any further, Kenshin felt a familiar presence enter the Aoiya before an equally familiar voice said, “Ano...is the owner of the Aoiya present?”

“Yes,” Kenshin heard Kashiwazaki say in a pleasant but curt tone as Sawagejou Chou stepped in further, carrying what looked like a small traveling satchel. Kenshin noted that despite the year that passed, the ex-Juppongatana member still looked mostly the same, even though he had been most likely serving the police all this time. “How may I help you?” Kashiwazaki said, keeping his tone as pleasant as possible as he stepped away from Misao, who looked slightly annoyed at the arrival of the Osaka-native.

“The police want you to open up a room for Yamazaki Susumu-sensei and put it on their tab. I don't know how long he's going to stay in Kyoto, but here's his stuff,” Chou said, shoving the satchel into the old proprietor's hands.

Kenshin saw the spiky-haired man glance up and see both him and Kaoru, but did not say a word before leaving. He descended the stairs, but when he got to the bottom, the ex-Juppongatana was no where to be seen and only a frown graced Kashiwazaki's face. He himself was also curious and slightly concerned about the fact that Dr. Yamazaki had been called down to Kyoto by the police force. He knew from his days as a hitokiri that Yamazaki Susumu had served as the primary spy for the Shinsengumi, and from during those days, he had inferred that before Yamazaki had become a doctor, had been a member of the Oniwabanshuu. Kenshin hoped that everything was fine with whatever Aoshi's investigation was, especially since it seemed that a former member of the Oniwabanshuu had been called down to here.

“There's nothing to concern yourself with, Himura-dono,” the old man suddenly said, answering his unspoken question. As the old proprietor schooled his expression back to a pleasant one, he turned to Misao and cheerfully said, “Misao-chan, don't worry about Aoshi. Let's just make sure that he has a good meal waiting for him, so you'd better get started on your errands.”

“All right,” the young woman said, giving one last puzzled look towards where the ex-Juppongatana member had been, before saying, “I'll be back before lunch, Ji-ya!”

“Please take care, Kashiwazaki-dono,” Kenshin said, deciding not to press the old proprietor for information that was not entirely his concern. A moment later, both he and his wife left.

* * *

Susumu folded the slightly crinkled map up and tucked it into the inside of his clothes before ducking into the tiny shop, feeling cool relief from the mid-morning summer heat. There were two herbalist shops that were in the general vicinity of the area in which the five poisoned children had been living in. He had drawn a rough sketch of the plant in its dry form for Aoshi to use as a reference when they had split up to cover both shops at the same time. The problem with the sketch was that any part of the plant could be broken and used and therefore, was going to be hard to pinpoint which part was the one that had caused the children to convulse and die.

The way the children had died was slightly different than how the previous _Okashira_ before Aoshi had died – none of the children had died in agony – all looked to be peacefully sleeping. Statements taken down by the police from distraught parents were almost all the same, and even food samples that had been taken showed nothing. Susumu knew that the poison acted and dissolved fast, so who or whom were actually the ones to poison the children?

Surely it could not have been the parents themselves, for Susumu could not fathom some adult wanting to kill his or her own flesh and blood in such a horrible fashion. There was also the fact that none of the children were previously ill or were on herbal medication, which made it even harder for the police to figure out how the poison was being administered. Yet another question that nagged him was the reason for only the _children_ that were being targeted. Why not the adults?

“Irasshaimase!”

Susumu blinked as his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark interior of the herbal store and saw that far from the usual type of person that worked in such a store, a beautiful, somewhat-familiar-looking woman was behind the counter. The woman had stopped her work of weighing ground ginger on the small scale, but it was not that that had caught Susumu's attention, but the fact that he wondered why she looked so familiar...

“It has been quite a while, hasn't it, Yamazaki-sensei?” the woman asked, but then smiled before continuing to say, “You don't remember me, do you?”

“You look familiar,” he started, but trailed off. Try as he might, he could not remember this woman's name or where he had met her before.

“Takahashi Reika,” the woman said, bowing slightly towards him. “We had trained in the same group before you and your sister's deployment with the Roshigumi. We also briefly met while Edo was being besieged eleven years ago, though we did not talk.”

Memories of a wilder, and much more violent time came rushing back as soon as she spoke those words and he saw Reika's smile grow wider as she must've seen the recognition finally settle in his eyes. “It's been too long,” he said, glad to see another former shinobi of the Oniwabanshuu doing quite well in this day and age, though of all the professions that he thought that Reika could've become after the end of the revolution, herbalist was not one that he thought she would become. “Have you been in Kyoto since the end of the war?”

“Yes,” she answered, clearing the scale of the small mound of ground ginger. In a further elaboration to his unspoken question, she continued, saying, “When I decided to utilize my skills about preparing medical herbs in the new age and opened up this shop, I heard through the shadows that you finally took Shikijou's advice and became a doctor. Congratulations, Susumu. I'm sure your sister would've been proud.”

“Thank you,” he said, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the praise and the awkward silence that followed. A part of him wished that he did not have to do this to her, since she was a former comrade-in-arms and a good friend during their training days. To put a fellow shinobi under the eye of a police investigation was like throwing the implicit trust that bound the Oniwabanshuu together into the fire. However, she was the owner and therefore knew exactly what was going in and out of her shop. It would be up to his old abilities as a shinobi to ferret out what she would say, and when it came to subtleties, extracting information from another former shinobi would be no easy task.

“So, may I get you anything, sensei?” she asked, her tone and mannerisms still pleasant.

Susumu decided to go straight to the point and said, “Do you have any western herbs?”

He watched her carefully as she blinked in slight surprise, with all of the usual physical signs that went with being caught off guard showing. Her breathing hitched slightly as her heart rate became elevated a bit with the shock, with her eyes widening, before calming down as her flight-or-fight response stilled just as quickly. Outwardly, she still maintained a pleasant composure, but he could see that his question had clearly thrown her off – most Japanese doctors did not go into an herbal store to ask for _western-imported_ herbs, preferring to stick to what they knew best about native herbs from China or grown locally.

However, her response to his question did not mean that she was in the clear, it just told him that she clearly did not expect anyone with knowledge of western herbs to be in her shop. Susumu found himself wanting to clear her name, to not let another Oniwabanshuu member be charged with murder, but she had not given him any solid evidence towards her innocence. Instead, he felt...disappointed.

“I have a small amount,” she answered, and he could see truth in her eyes. “However, if you do not find the ones you're looking for, there is a shop near the docks that caters exclusively in western herbs for cooking and medicinal usage.”

“Show me what you have, please,” he managed to say while covering up his surprise. No where on the map that he had been given did it say that there was an herbal shop near the docks. This was new information, and he knew that it needed to be passed on to the police, unless...

As Reika started to pull the small jars of various items from the shelves of her store and placed it upon the small counter where her scale had been sitting, Susumu realized that the mentioned western herbal store was cited as a cooking supply store, which meant that it would've passed under the inspection of the police and cited as a supply shop. He quickly returned his attention to the various small jars of herbs and a few preserved items that looked quite strange, but nothing matched what he knew to be the western poison.

However, one jar that was filled with small, crushed leaves that looked like a brown-green color caught his eye and he pointed to it, asking, “Is that _pennyroyal_?”

“Why yes it is,” Reika said, smiling and taking the cover off of the jar, allowing the strange, sharp smell of the western herb to fill the air. “Most of my customers who purchase it, use it to help aid their digestion or sprinkle it in their tea to give it a slightly different flavor.”

“Too much of it though, can poison someone,” he said, carefully watching Reika's reaction.

“Yes, which is why I request to see their doctor's prescription for it before selling it to them,” Reika said. However, the pleasant expression that had been on her face turned grim as she asked, “Another in my position may not notice, but I do hope that you're not implying that I may have something to do with all of those children being poisoned.”

“ _Pennyroyal_ is not what killed them, Reika,” he stated as she shut the lid to the jar, her expression quite serious.

“Then go ahead,” she said, stepping away from the small counter, spreading her hands out slightly. “Please take a look at everything that I have, Susumu. Please convince the police that I am not one to go around killing those poor children. I deal in honesty now, Susumu, not the shadows any longer. I had hoped that you were the same, but it seems that you're not.”

He heard the hurt in her voice, the unspoken accusation that he had barged in there, seemingly as a friend just looking for supplies, and completely backstabbed her with his implied accusation of murder. Had he lost all sense of subtly with the years that he had not been a shinobi? “I,” he started, hesitating for a moment before continuing on, “I apologize, Reika. I did not mean to accuse you of such an act. I see that you have no such item in your store that was used to poison the children, therefore, I will take my leave.”

He turned and took a few steps towards the entrance to the shop before he heard the scrabbling of footsteps on the floor and a hand catch his sleeve. “Susumu, please wait,” he heard Reika say and turned around. “Let me help you. I know the proprietor of the western herbal store. She's a foreigner who has been living here for a while, but she will become suspicious if you come barging in like you did and question her in the same manner that you've done to me. Please let me introduce you.”

Susumu hesitated, not wanting to involve yet another stranger in the case, but he realized that this was Reika's way of saying that he definitely no longer had a good grasp of his abilities as a shinobi. As embarrassing as it was, he also felt oddly relieved. Reika may not have completely proved that she was innocent from any wrongdoings, but the fact that she was being quite open with him spoke volumes to him as to how much she wanted to prove that she was innocent. In their line of duty, shinobi always looked for hints of deception, and as shot as his abilities were, he still retained some of his instincts, and those instincts were telling him that she was telling the truth.

“I've lost my touch with the shadows, haven't I?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Not all of it,” she said, letting his sleeve go. “If you'd like, I can help train you back up to what you used to be, because something tells me that our former services as shinobi will be needed in the coming days.”

“Perhaps,” he said, frowning as he remembered the last words that his sister had said to him before she had taken the hairdresser mission and was killed. He had undertaken mission after mission for the Shinsengumi following her death, but with the offer to become a field medic and eventually a doctor, he had thought that he had fulfilled his duty and could finally die with a clear conscious and perhaps of old age. Was the silent vow that he had made to Ayumu not fulfilled yet? Would he have to go back to his old ways just to save the new era?

* * *

Kenshin opened his eyes just as a light breeze blew by, seemingly carrying the light scent of white plum past. He could almost feel the caress of his first wife's hand on his cheek in the breeze but knew that it was only his imagination that carried both the scent and the feeling. He could feel a sad smile work its way up his lips, but that was only because he knew that both of them were at peace with their lives, and that he did not need to tell Tomoe about his own life and neither did she have to inform him about her afterlife. Just a simple visit each year renewed that sense of hope and peace.

He glanced over to see Kaoru, still kneeling in prayer with her eyes closed, but with a mischievous smile on her face. He briefly wondered what she was saying to Tomoe, but did not disturb his wife's meditations. Last year, both of them said 'thank you' to Tomoe, but it seemed that this year, Kaoru had lots to talk about. His gaze carried over from his wife to Tomoe's grave where the irises that had been laid at the foot of the grave were neatly arranged – the vendor that they had brought the flowers from had said that this was the last batch of the season.

He glanced back as he heard Kaoru shift slightly and saw her slowly open her eyes, the smile still on her face. “Did she answer all of you questions, Kaoru?” he asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I'm grateful that she took the time to talk to me. Did she say anything to you, Kenshin?”

“No,” he answered, and at her sudden sad look, he reassured her with a smile, saying, “We have no need to talk anymore. What was said last year was all that was needed, that it was.”

“Oh.”

“Ready?” he asked, getting up and offering a hand to help his wife up as he felt another breeze blow by, this time, seemingly happy as it whipped their hair and some fallen blossoms from various trees around.

Their walk back to the Aoiya for a quick lunch before heading towards Arashiyama where the 13th master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu lived, was pleasant enough, though with the summer heat beating down, it was still slightly uncomfortable. However, Kenshin sensed something alarming before he actually heard the panicked shouts. He raised an arm to shield Kaoru just as a man and woman ran past them, with the man carrying a small child in his arms, headed towards a small shop. He found his breath hitching just a bit as he saw the state of the child in the man's arms.

“Ichimura-san! Ichimura-san!” the man shouted, just as Kenshin saw a somewhat-familiar-looking reddish-brown-haired man quickly step out from the store. “Help us! The doctor – he's not in right now!”

“Here, put him here,” he saw the man say, guiding in the family into his store and most likely home.

Just as the family and the man disappeared, Kenshin and Kaoru saw a young mother holding her limp daughter in her arms run by, headed towards the shop. It was surreal, but there were shades of what had happened during the first few days that Kenshin had met Kaoru and the opium dealer, Kanryuu was trying to take Kaoru's dojo.

“We need to help them,” he heard Kaoru say as she glanced up at him with a set look on her face. It didn't escape Kenshin's notice that there were a few more families with children rushing towards the shop – clearly whenever there was not a doctor around, the man named Ichimura was the person they depended upon.

With only a nod towards his wife, the two of them hurried towards the shop, and while Kenshin dashed inside first, Kaoru had stopped to help a grandmother carry her grandson towards the shop. Bypassing the neat stacks of twine-bound ledgers, trays of different sized brushes, and ink sticks with stone slabs, he headed towards the back, where he could hear the panic of many people.

Without preamble, and stepping around the chaos, he found the reddish-brown-haired man in the midst of setting down a young girl onto the tatami-covered floor and pushed a sitting pillow under her head. All the children – and they were only children, he noted – were convulsing, though some had traces of blue start to appear on the edges of their lips. “What do you need me to do, Ichimura-dono?” he called out, catching the man's attention.

“Get water,” the man sternly said, appearing to be quite calm and in control of himself, despite the panic. “There's a notice of possible poisoned well water for the Nishikyou area of the city. It might've spread to here, so we'll need to buy the water.” The man turned to a woman who had two small, frightened-looking children clutching her kimono behind her, and said, “Saya, I need you to heat up the stove and see what you can find of those herbs that Susumu gave me...”

Kenshin heard no more as he was making his way out, passing by his wife who had rolled up the sleeves of her kimono and was trying to help a family with their children. Only children – none of the adults or elderly so far looked to have been poisoned. Out the door and into the streets, he took a quick look around but did not see any water sellers. He started down a small alleyway; if the stores had not changed since Shishio's rampage, then the nearest person he knew that sold water was beyond this narrow alleyway, though he would have to run as fast as he could to get the water back, since the alleyway was too tight for him to carry the buckets through.

As soon as he emerged from the alleyway, he hurried towards where he remembered the water seller to be, but as he past street vendor after street vendor, there was no water seller around. He did, however, spot the one unlikeliest person he did not expect to see in this part of Kyoto and hurried towards the person.

“Yamazaki-sensei!” he said, catching the attention of the doctor and the woman beside him, both of whom looked to be hurrying towards the docks. “Some children have been poisoned and the local doctor is not around. We need your help, please.”

“Where?” the doctor asked, the startled look that had been in his eyes dying quite quickly into controlled anger.

“A man named Ichimura has taken the families and their children in,” he answered.

“Reika, go to the nearest police station and let them know that we've got poisoned children at Ichimura Tetsunosuke's stationary shop,” the doctor ordered to the woman next to him. She gave a curt nod and ran off faster than Kenshin had expected. “Were you going to buy water, Himura-san?” he heard the doctor question.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Good, get as much as you can,” Yamazaki said. “Down this road, turn into the first alley on your right, and go through. There's a water seller right across from the alley's entrance. There's also a grain shop next to him. Buy soy bean oil. Hurry.”

Without another word to each other, both of them parted ways, hurrying and hoping that they would be fast enough to save lives.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a late posting...real life took over. Anyhow, before you start complaining, Misao will certainly start to get a bigger part in the story instead of whining all day. If you've also noticed, I changed the character tags a little. Figured that it would be better to just state all the primary characters in one go rather than leave it at a question.
> 
> Another disclaimer, I'm not a doctor (and not studying to be one), so symptoms of illnesses are only based upon what I know and have observed (yes, I have seen someone with TB symptoms before, but from a very safe and far distance). Cholera symptoms are based upon my own research and curiosity, as are several other illnesses. I'm just that way - I like to research a lot. Poison stuff is based upon my endless viewings of medical stuff on The History Channel, Discovery, PBS, and The Science Channel.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! If real-life doesn't get in the way again, I'm hoping to have the next one up in about a week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

_Past: Western New Year, 1869_

 

What was supposed to be a joyous occasion that Tetsu had heard from westerners was a solemn one among those living in Hakodate. The westerners had managed to trade for some alcohol that included the strangely named 'whisky' and 'vodka'. He had tried a sip of both alcohol and both had _burned_ their way down his throat, though he had felt a nice and warm fuzzy feeling after a few minutes. Some of the other young soldiers who had attended the sedated celebration had laughed at his attempts to drink the alcohol. Still, Tetsu resolved to stick to plain and simple Japanese sake after that attempt. He could at least drink several bottles before passing out.

Laughter and smiling faces was seldom seen on any of those gathered in this hall for the western new year celebration, but most had drinks in their hand and were chatting with each other. He knew what was rolling through many of their thoughts, for it was the same that occupied most of Hijikata's thoughts whenever there were no negotiations or meetings to conduct. Everyone was worried about the rate at which their troops were dying of the mysterious illness that still gripped them. Despite the doctors trying to save everyone, at least one or two men died each day. If it continued well into the spring, they would no longer have a sustainable force to defend themselves against the Imperial forces.

Medicine had been successfully bartered from the small trade missions that dotted the island, but even western medicine had been almost useless in the wake of the illness. The only hope they had was trying to quarantine those who were affected. As soon as those quarantines had been set up, Hijikata had forbade him from going to the hospital to help, and thus he had been stuck at the primary government house, helping translate and review stuff that Hijikata needed him to. It was mostly boring work, since Hijikata would not let him look at the more interesting stuff (schematics of ships, troops, and potential battle plans) and it kept him occupied, but Tetsu found that he wanted to go help those in the hospital.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and turned slightly to see Hijikata standing next to him. His master said, “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, Ichimura. Let's return to our rooms.”

“Yeah,” he said, though he wasn't sure if his words were slurred or not. It was a bit warm in the hall, but if he drank more sake, at least the headache he was feeling subsided a bit. He felt himself being guided through the throngs of guests and fuzzily remembered saying some farewells before being guided through the cold halls. With the sake warming him, he didn't feel cold at all, and pretty soon, he was back in his own room. The last thing he remembered before drifting off into a hazy sleep was a blanket being draped across him, sending him spiraling into comfortable darkness that gave him no nightmares of people dying from an illness that could not be cured.

* * *

Hijikata sighed mostly to himself as he slid the door shut to his page's room, partly in exasperation at just how inebriated Ichimura had gotten at the party, but mostly in relief that the fact that his page was drunk enough that he would finally be able to sleep without nightmares waking him up. He knew that Ichimura wanted to go back and work in the hospital, but what Ichimura did not realize was that he kept waking up in the middle of the night, shouting for medical supplies to be run to an imaginary patient, only to wake up in the morning with absolutely no recollection. There were also times where Hijikata had heard him shout about the blue-black frozen look on the dying men's faces.

The dream, to live free and to carry on the spirit of what the Shogunate had stood for, the honor, justice, and ordered system that had created lasting peace for generations was now gone, reduced to what was left of those who remembered at Hakodate. To further mar the memory was this 'illness', and though the doctors were doing all they could, Hijikata was among the very few who suspected that this illness was not an illness.

It had been Jules Brunet, the Frenchmen who held the troops together with the rest of his comrades who had first spoken to him when the first of the troops had fallen ill and died with the distinctive blue-black lips being the only symptom left of a long battle within that troop's own body. He didn't know why Brunet had chosen to confide with him about the possibility of an assassin running around, but he had learned that Brunet had seen symptoms of this happen before in his home country. The more he thought about it after the initial exchange of information, the more he realized that he had indeed, seen something similar before, but only once.

There was a traitor amongst them, and though he had told Brunet of that possibility, he had not told the Frenchman of the first time he had seen similar symptoms. The Frenchman may have trusted him enough to confide in him this sensitive information, but he did not completely trust anyone here except for his page. He went back to his own room and put on his thick woolen jacket. He had not had much to drink through the solemn night, but he knew that he would probably have a slight headache in the morning. Still, it was enough to keep him warm and sufficient enough to not warrant any suspicions, since everyone who was there had seen him leave with his page in tow.

The night was still young enough, and he had something he wanted to investigate. If his instincts proved correct, then by spring, the Republic of Ezo would cease to exist and become a relic of the past.

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Kenshin silently sighed with relief as he finally sat on the ground, the last of the children stabilized to the point where they were no longer thrashing around and were breathing evenly. Most of their lips were still a dark-blue color, but a few of them had started to turn towards a much lighter, normal color. Parents, grandparents, even siblings, all of whom had not been affected were sitting around their loved ones, the relief quite open on their faces.

Kaoru was currently in an adjacent room, tending to one of the patients. As he brought his gaze back to where Dr. Yamazaki was, in the main room, checking up on a young boy who had finally stirred, he heard someone thump to the ground beside him. Looking over, he saw that it was the reddish-brown-haired man who had generously opened up his home to those affected.

“Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” the man said, oddly holding out his hand out. After a moment, however, gave him a sheepish look before taking it back, saying, “Sorry, I'm used to greeting a lot of my customers that way – it was an automatic reaction for me to do that. Have I seen you before?”

Considering the proximity of the shop to the ports, Kenshin could only assume that the man dealt with plenty of foreign customers, hence the way he initially greeted him with the open hand. He however, didn't want to cause Ichimura any further embarrassment and merely replied, “This one is Himura Kenshin. This one was in Kyoto last year.”

He saw Ichimura give him an odd look, but did not say anything about his choice of words, and instead, said, “You were at the Aoiya, right? You and the others defeated Shishio Makoto.”

He merely nodded in affirmation to Ichimura's statement, with the man's words helping him remember that it was during the aftermath and clean-up of the Aoiya and her surroundings that he had seen and briefly met Ichimura. If he went even further back into his memories, he knew why the name 'Ichimura Tetsunosuke' rang a familiar bell – the man had been Shinsengumi; specifically, Shinsengumi Vice Commander Hijikata Toshizou's page.

Details about the command structure of the Shinsengumi had been distributed primarily from Yoshida Toshimaro and his cohorts before Ikedaya had happened. Included in those details had been names, and Ichimura Tetsunosuke's name had been listed as Hijikata Toshizou's page, though no one knew what he looked like back then. In all the skirmishes he had engaged in with the Shinsengumi, he had never seen Ichimura in action before, and so he had personally thought that the fact that there was a page working for Hijikata was a myth. Pages to commanders posed a very real danger to any assassin who wanted to get to their primary target, for they were the last resort shield to their masters if bodyguards were dead or not available, and many pages had thwarted assassination attempts by both sides.

Kenshin himself had had his fair share of killing bodyguards and the like, but he had heard that assassins who had been sent to kill both the commander and vice-commander of the Shinsengumi had not been defeated by bodyguards or a page, but by shinobi. In the present though, he decided not to bring his knowledge about Ichimura to the forefront. It was a new era and whatever was in the past would stay there. The two had not exchanged any words last year, but it seemed that fate had other ideas now.

He returned to the present, pushing memories of a darker time away, just as Ichimura gestured to the woman who was trying to keep two children from entering the main area, saying, “That's my wife, Saya, and my children--”

Even before Ichimura had stopped in the middle of introducing his family from afar, Kenshin had already felt an unexpectedly familiar, predatory-like presence descend upon the place and turned at the same time the proprietor of the stationary shop did towards the entrance. Policemen, wearing the dark uniforms, caps, and the immaculate white-gloves that marked them with authority, stepped in, and in the lead was none other than Saitou Hajime.

“You!”

He was taken aback by the enormous amount of venom that Ichimura had poured into that one word as he saw Saitou's eyes narrow a bit before the former Shinsengumi captain wordlessly brushed past both of them and entered into the attached house. Not even a second later, Kenshin saw Ichimura scramble up and stomp after Saitou. Sensing that things were about to become quite unsettled, he got up after Ichimura and managed to reach him before the shopkeeper could physically do anything rash. All of his thoughts and curiosity as to why Saitou was in Kyoto was pushed to the side as he held Ichimura back with a hand, but even that did not prevent Ichimura from scathingly saying, “Get out! We have sick children here, and we don't need the likes of you bothering them!”

“Aho,” he heard Saitou mutter before walking over to where Dr. Yamazaki was, and knelt beside the doctor.

Wisely, Ichimura did not say anything else, though his eyes were clearly narrowed in anger and annoyance. Kenshin glanced back to see that the other policemen had not entered the house, and were instead, loitering around the shop, waiting for Saitou to return. His gaze returned to where Saitou was speaking in hushed tones with Dr. Yamazaki, but it didn't escape his notice that the woman who had been sent by the doctor to get the police had returned. She had immediately headed towards another patient lying a few _kanejaku_ away, but was clearly listening in on the conversation.

He was puzzled as to why such a heavy police presence was here, but his thoughts were halted for the moment when he heard the policemen in the shop shift a bit and felt yet another familiar presence enter the place – almost cat-like and silent. He turned and gave a nod as Aoshi entered, keeping the surprise as to why the former _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu was present from his face.

“Aoshi?” he heard Ichimura voice his surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“Investigating,” came the answer.

“Shinomori,” Saitou interrupted, but before the ex-Shinsengumi could say anything else, a rather loud _thump_ was heard from one of the adjacent room that was swiftly followed by a cry of alarm.

The pitter-patter of small feet on tatami-covered floors was heard before a young voice called out, “Yamazaki-sensei! Kaoru-san needs help!”

Even before the child had finished speaking, Kenshin was already up and across the room, entering it to find his wife lying on the floor, near the patient she had been attending to. He breathed a small sigh of relief that she was stirring, but fear still gripped him as he rushed to her, kneeling and cradling her. Immediately on his footsteps was Dr. Yamazaki, and Kenshin watched as the doctor performed a quick diagnosis of Kaoru's condition – pulse reading and breathing pattern – all without taking her from him.

“She's all right,” he heard Yamazaki say as Kaoru stirred some more and slowly opened her eyes, though she looked a bit unfocused. “No sign of the poison. It's different from the other patients.” Kenshin looked up and caught the doctor's eyes as Yamazaki continued to say, “Best take her back to where you're staying, Himura-san. She looks tired and may just need some rest. I will be by later to check up on her.”

“Thank you, Yamazaki-sensei,” he said, grateful for the diagnosis and though his worry had receded, it had not completely disappeared – Kaoru normally did not just collapse out of exhaustion. He would've seen it in her body language well before she fainted. Something else had caused his wife to faint, but at least for now, she was in no danger. “We're staying at the Aoiya and look forward to your visit, that we are.”

* * *

Saitou could see the relief on many people's faces at Ichimura's shop, especially on Ichimura's wife and children when Yamazaki had given his diagnosis on Himura Battousai's wife. The only person other than him who had not even twitched or shown any expression at the fact that Himura Kaoru was not poisoned was Shinomori. He did, however, see the relief reflected in the former _Okashira_ 's eyes.

It was a relief for him, not because Battousai's wife was not poisoned, but because if she was then he knew that Himura would stop at nothing to find out who did it, and it would interfere with his investigation. He already had enough interruptions and dead ends, and having to add an unpredictable Battousai into the mix was nothing short of a massive headache that he did not want to deal with. However surprised he was to see the ex-Hitokiri in Kyoto, he did not stop to wonder why – whatever Himura did with his life was his own.

As soon as Himura and his wife were gone from the shop, the palpable anger he could feel from Ichimura, directed at him, returned, but he ignored it in favor of standing and giving Yamazaki an expectant look. Time was ticking and he could help but feel a tiny bit of impatience at just how slow this investigation was taking. Several children had already been killed, and the police still had no definitive leads.

“They're all stable, Saitou,” Yamazaki said. “I'm going to give them some prescriptions, but I'll have to monitor their health in the coming days. It's also much too early to say that what we've done is considered a cure, but I think in a couple of hours they'll be well enough to go back to their own homes.”

“I can help you with the herbal medications, Yamazaki-sensei,” a woman spoke up, as Saitou recognized the woman to be the one who had initially arrived at the substation nearest to this store and alerted the police to what was going on. Saitou had met the woman when he had shown up at the substation and she had led them to this shop. She had merely cited that she was an acquaintance of the doctor, but to him, she looked slightly familiar.

Just as he saw Yamazaki open his mouth to say something, surprised at the generous offer, the woman turned to him, Saitou, and introduced herself, saying, “Takahashi Reika. I formerly served as your wife's bodyguard before I was released from my duties to help with the evacuation of Edo during the war.”

Saitou said nothing though the woman's words brought back the brief memory of his second meeting but first formal introduction to his wife, Tokio, many years ago. He remembered seeing a young woman standing in the shadows, near Tokio, and realized that it was Takahashi that he had seen, protecting her mistress. The former bodyguard was Oniwabanshuu, but he could see the slight wariness that Yamazaki treated her with – if Yamazaki was suspicious of her actions and words, the doctor said nothing. However, it told him that for now, with such a tall order to ensure that the recently poisoned children would recover, the doctor was willing to forgo his suspicions to accept help where needed, and thus, Saitou would not question the woman...for now. Instead, he addressed the doctor by saying, “Do what you will, Yamazaki.”

He sensed Shinomori approaching and turned slightly just as Shinomori quietly said to him, “One of the families has allowed us to search through their home for any evidence before they return.”

There was no other words exchanged between the two of them, and none were needed as he left the home without another look back and heard the near-silent footsteps of Shinomori following him. As he passed by other policemen standing a bit impatiently in the store, he took a cigarette out of his uniform's coat pocket, along with a match and and struck the match. Lighting the cigarette, and waving the match flame out, he took a long drag out of the cigarette, letting the narcotic fill him. “Make sure the families' statements contain what and how much of whatever Yamazaki gave to their children to stop the poison,” he said to the men.

“Yes, sir.”

Whatever the doctor had done was only a temporary stop-gap measure, and Saitou knew that, but it was better than nothing. If they could ensure that all doctors around Kyoto had their stock of the stop-gap measure, then perhaps they could start slowing down the poisonings. However hopeful it was though, Saitou knew that there would potentially be a few more deaths before he would be able to identify and stop the poisoners.

* * *

The aromatic scent of a home-cooked meal was still lingering in the air when he and Saitou entered the empty home. Aoshi could smell nothing out of the ordinary and everything in at least the first room looked like any other home, though there were some small items, clothing, some wooden shoes that were scattered from the family's mad scramble to rush out of the door and save their child. The muffled sounds of day time summer insects outside, couple with the call of vendors on the streets even gave the home a deceiving sense of peacefulness that almost masked the fact that a child had nearly died here.

Room by room, corner by corner, every nook and cranny in the home was carefully turned over a searched. Even the closet spaces where clothing and bedding were stored was searched. Aoshi had also taken a small stool and stood on it while pushing back ceiling panels to poke his head up and into the dark space, but there was nothing. Finally, after checking each room's ceiling, he replaced the final panel and set the small stool back to where he had found it.

He found Saitou carefully searching the kitchen, the final place where they had not searched yet. This particular family's child had been poisoned in the adjacent room, doing some homework that had been assigned from the local temple-school. The parents had said that it was only minutes after the child had finished eating his mid-day meal and started on the homework did the child start convulsing. The kitchen would have been the logical start of their investigation, but Saitou had directed him to check the bedrooms and other areas first to rule out anything that could have potentially been introduced to the child before the kitchen, since there were many things in a kitchen that could potentially poison someone, even unintentionally.

With a nod towards the ex-Shinsengumi, Aoshi crouched on the ground, careful to not move too much to send the sand near the small fire pit into the air. They didn't need to contaminate the place even more. He could hear the quiet clinking of ceramic bowls and cups being picked up and put down after examination by Saitou, but didn't look towards what the policeman was doing. Instead, he let his fingers run just a fraction deep into the sand surrounding the fire pit. All houses, even in the fairly large kitchen of the Aoiya had a good thick layer of sand surrounding the fire pit. It was there to help douse the fire if the flames got too intense or out of control. It was also there to mitigate any accidental spillage of soups or food. There was nothing in the fire pit, not even the kettle of water that had been left hanging above the doused pit to suggest anything otherwise.

Suddenly, his fingers brushed across something small and hard and he frowned. As he parted the sand, a small, bulbous object poked out and with it, a tiny, almost indistinguishable needle was attached to it. He carefully picked it up and held it out from him, just as he heard Saitou approach. The ex-Shinsengumi briefly filled his vision before he focused it back on the bulbous object. He had never seen anything like it before, but given that it looked almost like a musket ball with a tiny sharp end, it could well be the method in which the poison had been delivered. Children threw things at each other, and this family had three children, all of them young, but only one, the eldest, had been affected by the poison.

“No other house that was searched has found this,” he heard Saitou say as the policeman reached out and he, Aoshi, duly handed over the evidence. A quick skim of his hand in the sand again yielded no more – this was the only strange item that had been found.

“Hollow,” he supplied. “Western imported? Apart from a rusted short blade I found in the parents' room--”

He stopped short as he realized that despite the sunny weather outside, it was still dark and dim in the kitchen, especially since the sun was currently shining through the windows. Thinking back, he had thought that some clouds had passed through when he had entered the kitchen, hence the dimness. A glance over at Saitou's face told him the same – they were not alone in the house.

Someone else was here – had already been here before they had arrived.

Whoever the intruder was, had not attacked them just yet, but where the intruder hid was something that Aoshi could not figure out. He had personally checked every place, even areas where policemen would not usually check – areas where assassins usually hid, and there had been no one. His kodachi was back at the Aoiya, left there because of his initial investigation into one of the herbalist shops and thus carrying a weapon would not be prudent. Saitou had his katana, but Aoshi knew that in such close quarters, it would be a hindrance rather than a help.

Silently, his eyes tracked all around, but he could see nothing that would give away the hiding space of an intruder. Whoever this intruder was, he or she was good, and that worried him, especially since he could not even feel a presence. A quick look back told him that Saitou still had not gotten up from his crouch, but the policeman was alert, with an almost wolfish glint in his eyes.

A shadow-like creature suddenly appeared in front of both of them, and before either could react, it leapt up. Aoshi was treated to the sudden sight of a maw full of razor-sharp teeth in his face, while a forceful, icy-cold hand shoved him back into the ground with almost enough force to stun him. Just as the attack had suddenly come, the shadow-creature disappeared, and sunlight spilled into the kitchen, leaving it much brighter than it had been.

He sprang up, but the shadow-creature was no longer around and whatever barely felt oppressive presence it had exuded upon him was also gone. He glanced over to see that Saitou had also picked himself off the floor, his katana only half-way out of the scabbard. The speed at which both of them had been attacked was much faster than either of them could react to, and that worried him. No man, not even Himura Battousai, possessed such speed – what had attacked them and why had it waited until now to do so?

“At least we've potentially identified how the children are being poisoned,” he heard Saitou mutter and saw that that bulbous object that had been in the policeman's fingers was no longer there. The creature had taken it, and where ever it was now, it was still loose, and that meant that the children were still in danger.

* * *

_Evening..._

 

“Himura-san?”

Kenshin looked up and away from the small zen garden situated in the back corner of the Aoiya to see Dr. Yamazaki standing near him, with news to pass on about Kaoru. He absently brushed his hakama as he got up and waited for the doctor to speak.

“Your wife is doing fine right now,” Yamazaki said, though his tone was solemn. “It seems that exhaustion caused her to faint earlier today. She said that she felt a little nauseous, so I prescribed her some ginger tea for now. I don't believe that she is feeling the same symptoms as the children, but I would rather that she stay here for a few days so I can monitor her.”

“Thank you, Yamazaki-sensei,” he said. “We will be staying until she feels well enough to travel back to Tokyo.”

Even though the doctor's face was clearly lined with exhaustion, he saw Yamazaki give him a faint smile, and realized that he had just made the doctor's day by just obeying his recommendation. He did not want to destroy the doctor's good spirits, but what he had witnessed today made him concerned, especially in the wake of the news that a portion of Kyoto was already under warnings to not consume well water. It reminded him too much of Kanyruu's method of trying to acquire Kaoru's dojo over a year ago. The symptoms that the children experienced also reminded him of a long-buried memory that he remembered seeing his parents suffer through before they had died.

“Yamazaki-sensei, the symptoms that the children are suffering from, it looks more like cholera than well water poisoning.”

The doctor's smile disappeared and took on a more serious expression as Yamazaki gave a small sigh before saying, “No, its not. Cholera symptoms are completely different from this. Someone or some people are deliberately poisoning the children. No adults have been affected yet, which is why I don't think your wife is experiencing the same thing. Have you seen this before?”

Kenshin hesitated as memories from long ago, before he had become the Hitokiri Battousai, flitted across his mind. Was what he had been told a lie for all these years? Had his parents been poisoned in a similar fashion that the children were going through right now? “This one has seen these symptoms before,” he quietly said after a few moments of silence. “This one was told by a passing stranger that this one's parents had died from cholera.”

At that moment, there was a clamor of voices sounding over the threshold of the entrance to the Aoiya and moments later, looking through the large open-seating area in the restaurant portion of the Aoiya, Kenshin saw Ichimura and his family appear. While Ichimura's wife led two rambunctious children up the stairs and towards one of the rooms, he saw that Ichimura himself had spotted both of them and was making his way towards him.

He was just about to leave, since it looked like Ichimura wanted to talk to Dr. Yamazaki, but stopped when he heard Ichimura say, “Ah, Himura-san! I hope your wife is well. This fell from her hair earlier and we want to return it.”

Ichimura held out a black-lacquered hair comb that had jasmine flowers printed on the broad side of it and Kenshin accepted with a grateful, “thank you.” He had brought the accessory for Kaoru shortly after they had been married, and she had worn it whenever she was not practicing or teaching Yahiko. “Yamazaki-sensei assured me that my wife is just tired and feeling a little under the weather. Thank you for your concern.”

“Well, thanks for helping us earlier,” Ichimura said, giving a him a nod before turning slightly towards the doctor and said, “Did Saitou drag you down here, Susumu?”

The abrupt change in just how friendly Ichimura's tone had been to downright annoyance and anger at mentioning the ex-Shinsengumi's name startled Kenshin. He would've thought that former Shinsengumi comrades, especially Saitou and Ichimura, would at least be cordial to each other, but it looked like it was not to be. Though he had more questions for the doctor, along with the unfinished explanation for what he thought had been cholera that killed his parents, he felt that this was a conversation that he should not be a part of and thus made to leave.

“Yes,” he heard Yamazaki say as he walked away.

“So its not cholera then?”

Kenshin stopped as he glanced back – something in Ichimura's question made him curious and he couldn't help but turn to see the most peculiar expression on Yamazaki's face. It was too much of a coincidence that Ichimura would mention perceived cholera symptoms just as he had mentioned it, and he could see that Yamazaki thought the same.

“You've also seen the symptoms before?”

“Also?” Ichimura questioned.

Kenshin took the opportunity to rejoin, saying, “I suppose both of our experiences will help in the investigation, Yamazaki-sensei.”

“It might,” the doctor said, frowning. “When did you first encounter something like this, Tetsu?”

The familiarity in which the doctor had addressed the store-owner surprised Kenshin, for he thought that a Shinsengumi page would not be familiar or privy to what the primary spy for the Shinsengumi did. Perhaps his assumption was incorrect. He himself was never close to any other person except for perhaps Katsura during his time in the Ishinshishi, but he knew that he could not assume the same for any other organization that existed during the revolution. Friendship had the strangest way of developing during tumultuous times.

“I kind of remember back when I was a kid, that my parents were talking about a cholera outbreak on the other side of the mountains where we lived,” Ichimura said. “They were saying something about symptoms and I remember hearing about blue-black lips being one of those symptoms. That same symptom appeared on some of the men while we were holed up at Hakodate during the winter between 1868 and 1869, though the doctors couldn't figure out if it was cholera, or some other illness, or a combination of both that was afflicting our troops. It certainly wasn't tuberculosis, that's for sure, since when spring came, everyone who survived was feeling much better.”

“So there were survivors...” Yamazaki said, his frown growing deeper as his eyes took on a faraway look.

“Oy, Susumu,” Ichimura said in a half-annoyed tone, but the doctor did not answer him. Kenshin couldn't help but smile slightly as he saw Ichimura give a slightly dramatic sigh before turning to him and said, “Hey, I'll try to make sure my kids don't make too much noise so that your wife can get some rest.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” he said. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Will your children be all right from today's events?”

“Yeah,” Ichimura said. “Saya wanted them to stay at another place for now, since they've extended the poisoned well water notice to the area where we live. My shop will still be open, but I hope they catch the culprit soon.”

“Would both of you be willing to repeat what you've told me to the police?” Yamazaki suddenly said, interrupting both of them.

“Yes,” Kenshin said, nodding. “That I am willing.”

There was a noticeable pause and a frown that graced Ichimura's face before he reluctantly said, “Yeah. I just wish that bastard wasn't working on this investigation. Why the hell is he here anyways? I thought he was in Tokyo.”

“Good,” Yamazaki said, ignoring Ichimura's complaint. “To clarify, cholera isn't started by poison, so whoever told you that what you saw, especially the symptoms, was cholera lied to you. Cholera is usually caused by accidental consumption of fecal matter in food, especially food not prepared well.” As the doctor paused, Kenshin could see a strange sense of apprehension fill the doctor, especially when he folded his arms over his chest. “Tetsu, do you remember what happened to the _Okashira_ before Aoshi?”

Though puzzled as to how and why a Shinsengumi member would have knowledge of Oniwabanshuu activity, especially personnel such as the previous leader of the group before Aoshi, Kenshin stayed silent. He was curious, but it would be impolite for him to ask about such details, especially since the past was clearly something that none of them wanted to revisit any time soon, least of all him.

“Oh no,” he heard Ichimura whisper as he saw the blood drain from the man's face. “No... Tell me its not true. The previous _Okashira_ died in agony. Every person who died at Hakodate from that poison looked like he had frozen to death.”

“I suspect, but I cannot prove,” Yamazaki said, “that all these cases, from your village, Himura-san, to those at Hakodate, Tetsu, and the children who have died in the past two days, are all connected by one type of poison. It's western-imported. There are many areas in which the poison can be extracted from, and many symptoms that can be afflicted on the victim, but they all have one common symptom – those blue-black lips.”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tetsu...come back here...I need that bottle of whisky that you took with you...
> 
> Apologies to all about the late posting. Real-life interfered again...but there's light at the end of the tunnel! Special thanks to Shadow_Chaser for beta-ing my work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Past: Late Winter, 1869_

 

Howling winds whipped wet snow into the air and viciously soaked whatever was not sheltered from the storm in a coating of brackish seawater that was mixed with tarry ice. Fortunately, Hijikata was not out in the elements for long and as soon as he entered the armory and shut the heavy door, silence eclipsed the place. There was no one around, and at this late of an hour, he didn't expect anyone to be. Stacks of cannon balls in the corners, polished pieces of Gatling guns, small cannonades, and other western weapons were all on one side of the armory. The other side contained row after row of rifles lined up neatly on their stands.

It was not the weaponry that Hijikata sought, but rather a small stack of notebooks that sat in the center of the armory on a table. The small lantern that sat on the table had been dimmed quite considerably, but as soon as he got to it, he turned the flow-valve to let more oil into the wick and the flame expanded. Skimming through the first notebook, he quickly glanced over the various notes written in Japanese. Though the westerners also used this place, everything was logged in Japanese, since most of the troops were Japanese. It also made it a lot easier for him to search for the specific thing he was looking for.

The notebooks contained each item in the armory along with a tally of what had been used and how much. There was a particular person's name he was looking for and when he found it in the notebook, he traced it to the item used and felt his blood run cold. Putting down the notebook, he picked up another one and rifled through it, finding the same name and again, saw the item that was being used. Other notebooks had the same name but different items, all seemingly random to anyone who casually perused the books. Since the illness that was still sweeping through the ranks had not been fully cured yet, despite the doctors trying their best, no one was paying attention to what was being used and how, and it was only by chance that he, Hijikata, had finally made some mental connections in the various troop reports he had been carefully reviewing and hiding from Ichimura.

Suddenly, a gust of wind, strangely hot, blew across him, extinguishing the flame in the oil, plunging the armory into darkness. He immediately drew his sword out as he willed his eyes to adjust to the darkness with only the howling wind of the snowstorm outside driving away the silence. Slowly, the dark shapes of the various items in the armory made themselves known to him and try as he might, he could not see what had caused the gust of hot wind.

“What do you fear, Hijikata-san?” whispered a voice so close to his ears that he turned, his sword striking air and still found no one around him.

A chill slowly made its way down his spine – that voice was so eerily similar to the tone and intonation of Souji that he was sure that it was. Only that it couldn't have been, for he, Hijikata, had received news just as the Shinsengumi arrived at Sendai near the end of last year that Souji had died during the midst of summer. As soon as he had composed himself, he had told Ichimura of the news. For all the mental fragility that Ichimura had displayed over the years over the death of comrades and friends, he had surprisingly taken the news of Souji's death much calmly than he, Hijikata, had expected. His page had merely handed back the letter before excusing himself from the room. Hijikata had left him alone for the next couple of days, letting his page deal with his own grief in the way he wanted to.

In the past, he and Souji had not talked much about Ichimura and Ichimura's role within the Shinsengumi after the boy's enlistment into the group, especially after Souji had called him out on trying to rectify the perceived mistakes that he, Hijikata, had thought he had made with Souji. But he was aware that Ichimura looked up to Souji like an older brother that was different from the paternalistic tendencies of Ichimura's actual older brother, Ichimura Tatsunosuke. There had been a lot of latitude in the way Souji mentored Ichimura, but Hijikata had not interfered much, finding it a good thing for the mental health of his page, though truth be told, he was a bit annoyed that Ichimura continued to ask Souji to spar with him back then. Neither of them had ever learned from that first time's incident, but if both of them remained happy, then he was not going to interfere. He found that in a strange way, Souji's happiness was enough for him to also be satisfied and hopefully let go of the guilt that had gnawed at him for years.

“Where are you?” he said out loud. “Are you such a coward that you need the shadows to hide?”

“Coward?” the same voice said, this time further away and Hijikata thought he saw a shadow-like creature approach him. “I think that you should deserve that title upon your own head, Hijikata-san. You left them, Hijikata-san. You abandoned them on the mainland, all to escape to this snowy hell hole that you call haven.”

The shadow-like creature suddenly charged at him, but Hijikata was faster and brought his sword up to bear, only to feel and hear the clang of metal against metal an equally long katana manifested before him. He felt himself being pushed back by a tremendous force, but with the next blink of his eyes, shock surged through him and he gave a lot of ground, colliding into a row of neatly-stacked rifles.

“That can't be...” he whispered as he found himself staring face-to-face with Souji.

“So strange. Most fear creatures they cannot describe yet you fear this man. Why do you fear him, Hijikata-san?” he saw the lips of Souji move to the words; but it was the maniacal glee in the eyes that told him that whatever this was, pressing him back against the rifles with an unnatural amount of strength, was _not_ Souji.

Souji was dead.

With that conviction in his mind, he found strength within him and _pushed_ , sending the creature who wore Souji's face back a step. However, before he could do any more or unleash an attack, the door to the armory was suddenly slammed open, bringing in a blast of cold air, snow, and a person holding a lantern. The creature, the pressure he had felt at crossed swords, even the oppressive feeling that encompassed the place immediately disappeared.

“Hijikata!” he heard the alarmed voice of Jules Brunet say as he shook his head to clear it, and looked up to see the westerner approach him with his pistol out. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” he answered, sheathing his sword. “I thought I heard something lurking around the armory.”

“Why are there no patrols around?” Brunet said, though between the muttering in French, Hijikata was not sure if he heard correctly or not and refrained from saying anything else. Instead, he knelt down and picked up the pieces of armor and rifles that had fallen and placed them back in their appropriate places.

“It's clear, but we should lock this place up for now,” he said after a few moments. As he picked up the scattered notebooks with Brunet's help, he quickly flipped to a certain page and glanced at it using the light from the Frenchman's lantern and frowned slightly. A name that had been written next to certain items was missing, whereas before he had been attacked by whatever it had been, the name had been there. He closed the notebook and stacked it upon another one. Together, the two of them quickly cleaned up the area and left.

As Brunet secured the doors with a sailor's knot that looked almost impossible to untie, Hijikata found himself staring out at the windblown landscape. Whatever had attacked him had not wanted him to discover the name in the books, that much he could conclude, but what it was, and how it came to posses Souji's likeness unnerved him. It had Souji's voice and physical appearance, but the strength behind the attack was colossal and more than any person he had fought against before. It obviously did not want to be discovered by anyone else, hence why Hijikata knew his life had been spared tonight. But, he had a name to go by, and what he had found had confirmed his thoughts. If it was true, then the person in the notebooks was the same person he thought had disappeared almost five years ago had returned.

Kitamura Suzu, former page of Yoshida Toshimaro who died at Ikedaya.

Hijikata suspected that there were possibly other moles from the Imperial Army, but the fact that Kitamura's name came up in the notebooks told him that at least one was quite visible. It was only because he had been given the name by Yamazaki before Ikedaya happened that he knew of Kitamura's name. No one else on the island had heard of Kitamura, hence why his name had not been crossed off the troops lists – everyone else thought Kitamura was a loyalist. He had originally thought that Kitamura had disappeared to parts unknown after Ikedaya, having heard that the page had been sent to the Choshuu residence in Kyoto to call for aid before fleeing Kyoto himself.

To any other man, one could argue that Kitamura had defected from the Imperalist, but Hijikata knew better. He had personally led a small contingent of Roshigumi to assassinate Kitamura's elder brother and some other Ishinshishi compatriots in late 1863 on the orders of Commander Serizawa. Vengeance was likely Kitamura's reason to join the Ishinshishi, and if the former page thought that it was going to come to fruition here, Hijikata was going to prove him wrong.

He knew that he had to find Kitamura and kill him before spring tides brought the Imperial Army up north.

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Though the hour was late, most of the Aoiya's guests were still out enjoying the last of the festivities for the night. The only exception was that several people were gathered around a table in the corner of the first floor of the restaurant-inn. The old proprietor of the Aoiya was not present in the meeting, but he was keeping an eye on the area from the vantage point in the kitchen, ensuring that no person who had no business to be near the area could listen in. Others who worked at the Aoiya were also keeping a weather eye on the area, for the meeting was not exactly a conventional kind between friends, especially with the presence of a uniformed police officer in the company of civilians.

Susumu took a sip of the tea that old man Okina had generously provided them earlier with as Tetsu finished relaying what he remembered of the men who died in the former Ezo Republic during the winter months. He knew that it had taken his friend a lot of courage to speak of it, since entwined in those horrible memories were also the last good ones he had of Hijikata. He was surprised that even Saitou had the sense to stay silent throughout the entire recounting, with the only movements from the policeman being to bring out a match and a cigarette to smoke.

Ever since Saitou had dragged the injured Tetsu to the medical tent he, Susumu, had manned on the Imperial Army side during the battle of Shiroyama, the policeman and his friend had never gotten along. Whatever comradeship the two had formed after evacuating Edo during the revolution, had all but disappeared in September 1877 of the western reckoning. Tetsu had joined Saigo Takamori's army long before that, but when the Imperial government decided to stop Saigo and pursued him to Shiroyama, using most of the Tokyo Police force as the bulk of their army, it was at that place that Tetsu's hatred towards Saitou was born.

Susumu himself had been drafted by Saitou to be a medical officer in the Imperial Army, but given that he, Susumu, took an oath to save lives no matter which side the person was on, he knew that Tetsu understood that and thus, was spared from his friend's wrath. Saitou was not so lucky, but then again, Susumu thought the abrasive ex-Shinsengumi was a hard man to get along with sometimes. He was never a friend to Saitou, but he respected the man's conviction, sense of honor, and most of all justice.

The fact that he could see that Saitou was piecing together everything that Himura and Tetsu had told those around the table and extrapolating theories and plans was in short, impressive. It was also the fact that Saitou kept silent that also told Susumu that the seemingly mutual hatred that both Saitou and Tetsu had for one another was actually one-sided, and it was only on Tetsu's part.

Tetsu had given him, Susumu, a grudging thanks a couple of months after Saigo's army had been defeated, and try as he might, given that he knew how much suffering that his friend went through, he could not figure out why Tetsu absolutely hated Saitou. It wasn't his place to make sure that the two got along – he just wanted to try to help his friend continue to psychologically recover. In hindsight though, his first actual attempt at trying to help Tetsu mentally get better was not the best – he had literally thrown Tetsu's newly commissioned daisho and uniform at him during the night of Ikedaya. Since then, he had tried to make amends.

“We found a small bulbous object at one of the families' home,” Saitou said after a moment of silence, bringing Susumu's attention back to the matter at hand. “There was a small needle-like object fused to it. It's hollow, but this object may be how the children are being poisoned. Unfortunately, Shinomori and I were attacked and the object was taken.”

It was that last statement that caused the rest of them, Susumu included, to stare wide-eyed at both Aoshi and Saitou. Had it not been for the fact that the two men had completely serious expressions on their faces, Susumu would have thought it completely false that _someone_ was able to steal and escape with a vital piece of information related to the poisonings. Neither men looked injured, and he could only conclude that whoever it had been that person must have been fast...almost inhumanly fast to be able to get past a high-calibre swordsman and the strongest ninjitsu practitioner.

“We may have been attacked by a summoned wraith,” Aoshi spoke up, his tone quiet but firm. “After I consulted with Okina earlier today, this is the only logical conclusion that I could come up with.”

“But Aoshi,” Susumu heard Reika, who was seated next to him, speak up with a hesitant look on her face, “I thought that the last of those clansmen were killed when they tried to attack us twelve years ago in Edo.”

“Their troops may have all but perished, but perhaps not their priests,” Aoshi said, and though Susumu was confused as to which shinobi clan (he was sure it was a shinobi clan) the two were talking about. He got his answer as Aoshi elaborated further, explaining, “Fuuma clansmen have long been sought after by the highest bidder, especially during the Sengoku era, where their skills in ninjitsu and also the lesser-known shadow-arts of summoning wraith-like creatures were highly prized. After the Tokugawa shogunate took over and favored more tangible skills in ninjitsu with the formation of the Oniwabanshuu, those who practiced the shadow-summoning arts started to fall into obscurity. By Okina's reckoning, he thought that there were most likely two practitioners alive by the time he completed his training, because it was he and our former _Okashira_ who killed the last two apparent practitioners many years ago.”

“Then not only is it possible to say that the Fuuma clansmen were trying to assassinate the Shogun using our _Okashira_ 's position twelve years ago, but also to get revenge for the death of their shadow-arts masters?” Susumu asked.

“Possibly,” was the curt answer from Aoshi.

“Twelve years ago, the Shinsengumi got caught up in your war at Edo,” Tetsu quietly spoke up, his tone bitter. However, with each successive word he spoke, his voice started to rise in volume and anger, “Two years prior to that, they almost killed Hijikata- _fukuchou_ and Kondou- _kyokuchou_. Why the hell are they trying to involve innocents in this again? Can't you guys just go off into a field somewhere and do what you need to do to settle this? Why the hell does everything that happens to you guys have to involve us – the children?!”

Startled but not too surprised at the amount of anger from Tetsu, Susumu tried to place a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, but was roughly batted away as Tetsu turned his furious glare towards him. He knew that his friend did not like to be jerked around, and thus what Tetsu said had some merit. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was Saitou who beat him to it by saying, “Shut up.”

Surprisingly, Tetsu did not even deign to yell at the policeman, and instead, obeyed the command, though he had turned back and was now glaring daggers at Saitou. The ex-Shinsengumi ignored it and continued say, “It's much more involved than that, moron. If this shinobi clan has retained their abilities, is there any way we can protect and prevent any other civilians from being poisoned?”

“No,” Reika spoke up with absolute certainty. “As a former initiate of the Fuuma, I can tell you that the ability to summon wraith-like creatures lies only within certain persons of the clan and that those persons are the only ones that were guaranteed to have absolute loyalty to that clan. They killed priests who showed even a sliver of a sign of defection. For the rest of us, especially those who defected or ran away, if they felt like it, they would hunt us down as sport using their creatures.”

As much as he hated the Fuuma clan for their manipulations that resulted in the indirect death of his sister all those years ago, Susumu found himself feeling horrified at what he heard. Of course, Oniwabanshuu also hunted their own defectors if they were ordered to, but never for sport. Shinobi only killed when ordered to and when they did they never took pleasure or enjoyment in taking a life – it was a job they were paid to do and that was it. There was no honor or justice in their killings, they never did to to avenge someone, and they always killed in the most effective manner unless otherwise ordered to.

However, as the convictions of his past faded to the present, he reached out and gently touched Reika on the arm, and she fell silent. There was no direct way to circumvent the summoned creature or whoever was behind it, but there could be a way to address the poison. Speaking up, he said, “I can try to devise a stronger stop-gap measure to try to nullify the effects of the poison as soon as it is introduced into the child. Sun-lantern seeds from Hayachinesan can only go so far when coupled with soy bean oil, and there's not a big stock of it here in Kyoto. Reika mentioned to me about a store near the docks that caters to western buyers and may have some herbs that might be useful, but we haven't taken a look yet. There's also a herbalist that I've heard of that carries some lesser-known but potent herbs that may be useful in combating the poison.”

There was a general nod of consensus from both Saitou and Aoshi for him to continue and he said, “The herbalist calls himself Ginte, but the problem is, he lives outside of Kyoto and in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure exactly where he is, since I only saw him once before, several years ago.”

“We've heard of Ginte too,” Aoshi said nodding. “You're right – he is a hard man to find, but he has helped us in the past.”

Susumu watched as Aoshi abruptly got up and left the table to talk to the old proprietor, just as Misao walked in, carrying a small box that probably contained treats. With a smile on her face that blossomed into surprise as both Okina and Aoshi had stopped talking as soon as she came near them, she grinned at them a second later and said something to them.

“Oh, so Misao-chan knows where Ginte is!” Reika spoke up, and Susumu immediately felt himself flush a bit with embarrassment. He had completely lost his skills in listening in on a conversation across the room that he could only pick out expressions and try to interpret what people were saying based on those expressions.

Susumu glanced back as soon as he heard a match being lit and saw that Saitou was puffing away on a cigarette before waving the flame-tipped match out. There was most definitely an irritated look on his face and he couldn't help but internally sympathize with him. Though Misao was the current _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu, she did not have the extensive experiences that everyone around the table had and it didn't take a genius to see that the leader of the investigation, Saitou, did not want to involve or add Misao to the team.

“If it is a hard-to-find area, Saitou, I will be willing to go with Misao-chan to locate this herbalist, that I am,” Kenshin suddenly spoke up. “There are patients that still need Yamazaki-sensei's expertise and care. If another one of these wraith-like creatures is spotted, then Aoshi and Reika-dono's experiences will help defend those in the city.”

Susumu heard Saitou snort and saw him take a very long drag out of the cigarette before pinning him, Susumu, with those wolfish eyes, saying, “Yamazaki, gather the supplies you need to start making a large mixture of the stop-gap you gave to those people today. We need to at least arm the citizens with something that can slow down the poison.” The policeman turned his gaze to Reika and continued, saying, “Takahashi, you and Shinomori will pay a visit to this western store. Search the premises for anything out of the ordinary – the fact that this store has herbs and is not registered as such is suspicious.”

“Saitou-san, the shop is listed as a cookware shop, and thus is natural to have food and some herbs. However, I have had dealings with the shop owner before and know that she does keep some herbs in a backroom that are customer-specific ordered. The owner may not know that a customer is using the shop as a front and therefore, I need reassurance that you will not shut down the shop or arrest the people working there,” Reika said.

“We'll see,” was all Saitou said.

It seemed that that was the best answer that Reika was going to receive for she did not push the issue and left it as is. Saitou then stood up with the cigarette hanging from in between his right index and middle finger while he adjusted the sword at his side slightly. He turned towards Himura and said, “Do what you will Battousai.”

As Saitou walked away, giving a nod towards Aoshi, Susumu heard Himura sigh and turned to see the ex-Hitokiri shake his head a bit. Himura then got up and approached Okina, Misao, and Aoshi. On the other hand, Tetsu, sitting on the left hand side of Himura, was staring at the cup of tea that still sat untouched by him. Just as Susumu was about to give his friend a nudge to see if he was still lost in his thoughts, Tetsu abruptly got up and left the table without a word. He watched his friend trudge up the stairs to the room where he and his family had rented for the next couple of days, feeling inexplicably sad and frustrated.

“Hey” he heard Reika say in a soothing tone as she laid a hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring pat, “Every cure takes time, Susumu.”

“Yeah,” he answered, turning back so that he was facing her, slightly mesmerized by her expressive and radiant brown eyes. “Tetsu is one that I've been working on since Ikedaya.”

“He's very lucky then to have someone so dedicated to his mental well being,” she said.

“It's the least I can do for people like him. He's one of the few people I know that have been through a lot more than what most should go through in their life time.”

There was a slight upturn of her lips as she shook her head and said, “I'm not going to be one of your patients, Susumu. I'm at peace with my past. All I can do now is help defend the present so that the future doesn't look bleak.”

Susumu strangely found his spirits uplifted by her words and nodded. There was only so much one could do to repair the past. It was the future they had to protect and if it meant unlocking painful memories of the past, then he could only hope that every one of them was strong enough to confront it.

* * *

“Master, they're back now,” the dulcet tones of a handsome man with shockingly white-colored hair said as he sat cross-legged on the pristine tatami-covered floor of the rather spartan-looking inn. There was no reply and only the slightly audible sound of fingers stroking a shiny, black-lacquered skull were heard as a dark-clad person approached the man. Dressed in what was actually simple, drab western clothing that seemed ostentatious when compared to how bare the room and the dark-clad person was, the man merely gave a smile and held up a hand for the other person to stop.

“Master says that you bring some important information.”

“Yes, sir,” the shinobi replied, with pale eyes glittering unnaturally against the single lantern lamp that lit the room.

“Show us.”

There was a noticeable pause between the order and the compliance, but it was only because the shinobi had to gather his concentration in order to show what he, or rather his wraith-summon had observed. Dark grey smoke seemed to suddenly erupt from the shinobi who had focused his eyes on the the white-haired man. However, the smoke was not flowing all over the room but rather towards the man who stared at what was shown to him in fascination.

The white-haired man's smile got wider and wider as the conversation recorded by the shinobi's skills in the dark arts and when it was done and the smoke retreated, one could not tell if the grin on the man's face was that of a fanatic or that of pure glee. It turned out to be neither as the man angrily said, “Those bastards are cleverer than I thought they were, especially Shinomori Aoshi and Saitou Hajime.”

“Akesato!” the man barked after a moment's pause.

Immediately, a woman dressed in the same dark clothing as the shinobi appeared, except she was not kneeling and merely gave the white-haired man an even look. Her honey-colored hair and striking blue-grey eyes were already unusual and clearly marked her as a westerner, but she did nothing to hide that fact. “My name is no longer _Akesato_ , Kitamura-sama,” she stated, with a touch of venom in her tone. “Either you address me properly by my name--”

“You'll always be Akesato, woman,” Kitamura Suzu interrupted her, and though his tone was cordial, he was clearly gripping the skull quite tightly in anger. “So long as I control the Fuuma clansmen and you owe them your life, you will be Akesato.”

The woman hesitated for a moment before giving him a curt nod and said, “Yes, sir.” She however, remained standing, but Suzu paid her no heed to the supposed breach of etiquette on her part.

“Akesato,” Suzu continued, relaxing his grip on the skull as he resumed an almost languid seated position on the tatami mats. “I have some business to tend to and ensure that Katsura Kogoro's favorite Hitokiri does not interfere with our plans. I need you to continue our campaign against the police here, but you are not to touch the Ichimura family until I return. However, it seems that the police also need some variations, so lets spice up the plan and see if they'll react to some more chaos. Feel free to do whatever you need to, so long as you do not draw the ire of other cities.”

“As you wish, Kitamura-sama.”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a scaredy-cat when it comes to horror movies, but yet, I strangely like writing psychological creepiness that terrifies some, if not all of the characters (case in point for my Horatio Hornblower stories).
> 
> Anywho, I have a bunch of one-shots and side-stories that complement this fic that have been planned but not entirely written yet. One of those looks at the antagonistic relationship between Tetsu and Saitou during the Battle of Shiroyama (September 1877). In real-life, Saitou did actually participate in that battle, and it was true that most of the Imperial Army's core personnel were policemen from Tokyo. Real-life Tetsu's participation at Shiroyama on Saigo Takamori's side is debated though - some historians say that he died before then, others said he died during that battle. Of course, my fic says he survived.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Past: Early Spring, 1869_

 

“They're getting better with their aim, now that the illness has passed, aren't they, Hijikata?”

Hijikata silently nodded in assent to Jules Brunet's word as the two of them, watched the rows and rows of riflemen practice firing their weapons at the straw targets in the training field. Though there were still patches of snow on the ground, spring had arrived and with it brought the first budding of trees and warmer weather that allowed the men to load their rifles with a faster precision. It also brought to close, the mysterious illness that had, at the end, killed at least a quarter of the troops they had left Sendai with. They still had a good amount of troops, but if the they did not secure naval superiority when the Imperial Army came, then their ground forces would be overrun within a month. They just did not have the manpower to hold out a long siege, much less an all out attack.

It had been a few weeks since that strange and terrifying encounter he had with the creature in the armory, and in that time, he had not seen it since. However, it was the maniacal glee in the shadow-creature's eyes that haunted him, not only when he was sleeping but when he was awake too. Ichimura had remarked several times since that incident about the tired look he, Hijikata, had, but he had told his page to not worry and concentrate on his own tasks. He did not want to worry his page about this incident and if he could continue to help it, keep Ichimura from finding out about it. His page had gone through too much and too short of a time, and he did not want to inflict this upon him.

Though Kitamura Suzu's name had been erased from the armory books, it had also been erased from all other records that contained his name. Discreet inquiries to several people about a missing name in the records yielded no information either. He had not mentioned Kitamura Suzu to many people except for a couple of unit commanders, but none of them had heard of the enlistee.

Brunet's warning prior to the new year about a possible assassin still lingered in his mind and he wondered if this shadow-creature was the assassin that had been causing the illness among the Republic's troops. With the ability to blend in almost virtually anywhere and strike, it was a good possibility, but there was not enough evidence. If this Kitamura Suzu was really on the island, was he the assassin? Again, evidence was scant, but Hijikata knew that Kitamura might have the motive to do so.

His visit to the hospital a couple of days prior to ensure that the last of those recovering from the illness were doing much better than they were earlier, afforded him no solid information either. He had taken Ichimura with him, and had briefly talked to the doctors before discreetly watching his page interact with nurses and other helpers at the hospital, greeting them and catching up on news. No one had looked or acted suspicious towards Ichimura, which filled him with a small amount of relief – at least no one was directly threatening his page just yet.

There was no doubt in his mind that whoever this assassin or assassins were, they were most likely aiming to disable the top commanders once the Imperial Army arrived. Their first step was to whittle down the sizes of the Republic's armies so that commanders would have to lead by example, thereby using the chaos generated by a head-on battle to possibly assassinate commanders right then and there. Hijikata knew that once the Imperial Army arrived, there would be no place safe for him to send Ichimura to, to keep him out of the battles...along with the fact that his page was stubborn to a fault.

In the weeks that had passed, he had come to realize that the only way he could keep his page alive and survive to see another day when the battle came was to send him away. He did not want Ichimura to die for him, whether it would be protecting him from an assassin's blade or for the cause of the Republic. Ichimura carried the legacy of the Shinsengumi and all that they had tried to strive for, and Hijikata wanted that legacy preserved – to let history know that they weren't just a bunch of thugs who bloodied the streets of Kyoto or fought for their dying Shogunate – they were a group of people from all walks of life who achieved and upheld the way of the samurai even when the world was crumbling around them.

“Buruneto-san,” he spoke up. “When does the ship carrying civilians leave port?”

“In a couple of weeks, Hijikata,” the Frenchman answered. “We still have families that are coming in from the other side of the island.”

“Is there...” he began, but paused, wondering how he should word to request to not sound like a desperate plea.

“Would you like me to book passage for your son, Hijikata?” Brunet politely asked.

He glanced over at the Frenchman and found that there was a serious look on the foreigner's face. There was no intrusive inquiry, as westerners were prone to do, about why or how, just a simple question – as if the Frenchman knew the reason. Just as he was about to correct Brunet's assumption about Ichimura's relationship to him, he realized that deep down, he _did_ think of Ichimura not just as his page, but as someone that was almost like a son to him.

He nodded and quietly said, “Thank you, Buruneto-san.”

* * *

Tetsu breathed in the fresh, salty air as he emerged from the narrow passage way that was covered by weeds and bushes. It was this small area in the fort that curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had wandered off after delivering his messages to the fort's commander. The passageway leading to this area was disused due to partial flooding during high tide in the winter. Hijikata did not expect him back at heaquarters until sundown, which meant he had some free time to explore. All of the troops in the fort were busy with their own things and none of them had asked for help from him, so he took the time to explore.

Brushing off the brambles and some young buds from the bush that had broken off and gotten stuck on him, he descended the steep incline towards the beach. This particular fort was the southern most on the island and was their first line of defense and lookout points towards Miyako Bay. He managed to half-walk, half-hop down the first half of the steep incline before giving up and sliding the rest of the way down.

However, as soon as his feet touched the sand, he realized he was not alone as he looked up and over at the cliffs that propped a part of the fort up to see that a man had stopped what he was doing to a portion of the cliff. As his eyes tracked from them to the wrapped cylindrical items the man had stuffed into cracks and chipped portions of the rock face, he realized what exactly he was seeing. The man was stuffing explosives under the foundation of the fort – he were aiming to blow it up.

It was at the same time he realized this that the man had unhooked himself from hanging on a tied rope that had been hammered via nail into the stone face and dropped to the ground. The man unsheathed a short blade from his back and swiftly charged. Tetsu managed to snap out of his funk and drew his swords out just in the nick of time to dodge the first swipe and block the second.

There was no time for him to pause and breathe – he knew that he had to stop the men and warn those up in the fort. Sliding his blade up against the short blade, he turned his face away just as his opponent kicked up sand meant to blind him and used the momentum to spin away, all the while keeping his swords close to him. Just as he clanged his wakizashi against the blade again, he managed to upend the grip of his katana and strike down, slicing through the arm of his opponent, but not stabbing him.

He was taller than his opponent, and he used it to his advantage by pushing his weight into the wakizashi, managing to surprise his opponent and enough for his opponent to take a step back. That step was all he needed and as he redistributed his weight, he kicked – hard – and the man went down howling; Tetsu had managed to kick and break one of the man's kneecap. Backing away as the man lunged and fell to the sand, he quickly sheathed his sword and ran back to climb up the hill he had just slid down. Those inside the fort had to be warned.

As he got to the top, he scrambled up and turned to see that the man had turned and was crawling towards the explosives. The man suddenly paused and started to rummage through his uniform, pulling out an object, and Tetsu realized that the man had pulled out a flint fire starter. There was no time for him to get back down and reach the man to knock anything out of his hand before the man threw it. Only loose pebbles surrounded him. He had no choice.

Pulling out his wakizashi, he took one look at it and threw it as hard as he could and watched as the sword flipped end over end, glinting in the sunlight. The man thumped to the ground dead, as the tip of the sword plunged into his flesh and killed him. Years and years of throwing coin into the temple offering box and other small objects during the war had culminated to this, his first kill.

There was no time to waste as he dragged his eyes away and hurried away – there were still explosives jammed against the cliff side wall of the fortress. Hurrying as fast as he could through the narrow passageway that would take him back into the fort, he managed to squeeze through the last of the narrow space and tumbled out into the fort proper.

“Hey! Watch where you're going!” an authoritative voice yelled at him as he picked himself up off the floor and realized that he had almost tumbled into one of the many patrolling units.

“There's explosives!” he blurted out. “There's explosives planted on the seawall base of this place!”

“What?!” the commander said, hauling him closer.

“Someone was planting explosives!” he said, forcefully pushing the commander away. “Come on!”

As soon as the commander let him go and sent a couple of troops to alert the fort's commander, he squeezed back through the narrow, disused passageway, with men following him. As soon as he and the others emerged, he pointed towards where the dead traitor was still lying and said, “He's the guy who did it. He's dead, but there's still explosives inside the wall down there.”

A couple of the soldiers scrambled down the steep incline first and he followed them. As they passed by the dead body, Tetsu paused by it and swallowed down the bile that suddenly threatened to come up his throat. He yanked his wakizashi out, giving a forceful flick to get rid of the blood before sheathing it. The traitor had managed to get both a flint and a thin stick of dynamite out, but had not lit the stick.

One of the soldiers rolled the dead body over, while the commander ordered his men to start climbing the cliff and start dismantling the explosives buried within it. “Thank you, erm...”

“Ichimura, sir,” Tetsu said, looking up and away from the dead body. “Ichimura Tetsunosuke.”

“Oh, you're Hijikata- _kyokuchou_ 's page!” the commander said, stiffening a bit, as a few others soldiers gave him startled looks. “My deepest apologies, Ichimura-san for how I treated you earlier and my thanks for alerting us to this.”

“Um, no problem,” he answered, puzzled by the commander and some of the men's actions. “I-”

He never got to finish what he wanted to say as they heard the alert bells suddenly toll in rapid succession. Swiftly following the bell toll was a voice shouting, “Ship spotted! Ship spotted! Imperial Navy spotted in Miyako Bay!”

“We'll take care of things here, Ichimura-san,” the commander said, giving him a reassuring look. “Headquarters needs to know.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, giving a curt nod and dashed away to find the fastest horse that would take him back and bear the news of an imminent invasion.

 

_Soon after the Imperial Navy was spotted in Miyako Bay, the siege of Hakodate began._

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

“Thank you, Kashiwazaki-dono,” Kenshin said as the pigeon was released into the air with the small message tied to its leg. With a good wind and luck, the message containing a simple explanation as to why Kenshin and Kaoru were staying in Kyoto for a while longer would reach Yahiko by evening.

“Don't worry about your wife, Himura-dono,” the old proprietor said. “She will be in excellent hands and if anything changes, we will let you know.”

He gave the old man a grateful nod and returned inside. Misao was still not downstairs yet, so he took the opportunity to go back upstairs and to the room where he and Kaoru were staying in. As he slid the door open, he saw that his wife was sitting up, looking a bit rosier than she had yesterday, but was still dressed for sleep and rest. Dr. Yamazaki was sitting beside her, with one of her wrists in his hands. He quietly entered and slid the door close, careful not to disturb the doctor's pulse-taking.

A few moments later, with her pulse taken, Dr. Yamazaki had turned back to the small satchel that contained his medical equipment and rummaged around. Kaoru took that opportunity and turned to give Kenshin a sunny smile, to which he returned. It was good to see his wife in such high spirits and feeling a lot better than she did yesterday. He approached and sat on the opposite side of the doctor as the doctor finished organizing his things and shut the bag.

“I have some theories as to what is causing your wife's exhaustion, but I want to try another type of herbal medication just to make sure that I'm correct before telling either of you,” the doctor said as he opened up his other satchel and pulled out a small packet and handed it to Kaoru. To Kaoru, the doctor said, “This should give you some energy today, but I still want you to take it easy. You can walk around town, but no climbing the stairs to get to Kiyomizudera or anything of that sort.”

“Thank you, sensei,” Kaoru said.

Just as Kenshin was about to thank the doctor for taking care of his wife, there came a rather loud clamber of footsteps thundering down the stairs before Misao's voice shouted from the first floor, saying, “Himura! Ready to go?”

“Himura-san,” Kenshin heard the doctor say as he got up, knowing that if he did not answer soon, Misao would be waking other guests up with her shouting. He glanced back down to see that the doctor was holding out a folded piece of paper. “This contains all the herbs that I think might help. Ginte might chip in a few others for old times sake, and for his own curiosity, but keep those separate from the ones on this list.”

“I will,” he said, taking the list and placed it securely into the folds of his sleeve. “Thank you for all that you have done for us, Yamazaki-sensei. We'll be back as quickly as we can, that we will.”

He gave his wife another smile before leaving without another word. Ensuring that the small sack that he carried was tied tightly around his waist, he quickly descended to the first floor. When he arrived at the entrance to the Aoiya, he saw Misao impatiently waiting for him, with a rice-picker's hat over her head and a pigeon perched on top of the hat. That was their communication link back to the Aoiya. She had a satchel also tied to her waist and was itching to go.

“Finally, you're here!” she said, softening the restlessness with a grin. Shouting to the old proprietor who had come out of the kitchens, she said, “We're leaving now, Ji-ya! See you in a couple of days!”

“Take care and have a safe journey!”

* * *

Susumu quietly sighed to himself as he descended the stairs and placed his bags at the foot of the stairs. His own day was about to start soon and there were many patients he needed to visit. He appreciated the joviality that Misao brought around here, but sometimes, it was a bit too much for him, and he wondered how his friends had coped with it throughout the years.

“The sun hasn't even fully risen yet and you already look tired, Susumu,” Reika spoke up from behind him.

He turned around slightly and saw the herbalist approach with a tray that carried two cups of tea. Picking up the proffered tea, he took a sip and let the invigorating taste of it fill him and help him wake up some more. He was tired, but it was not a physical tiredness he felt, but rather mental one that stemmed from what he had seen in the past day that he had been in the city.

The two of them stood next to each other, silently sipping their teas while watching a tiny portion of the morning traffic of pedestrians, carriages, and rickshaws from near the entrance to the Aoiya. The doubt that he had initially felt about Reika's innocence in the entire matter had all but melted away, and the fact that Saitou had not said anything about her presence told him that she could be trusted. That and coupled with her generosity in providing the herbs to help with the stop-gap measure made him relieved that perhaps there was an end to this terrible rash of killings plaguing Kyoto.

“Hey, Susumu,” Tetsu called out to him from the top of the stairs and he turned slightly to see his friend descend with a smile on his face. As soon as Tetsu reached the bottom, he gave a nod towards Reika, saying, “Good morning, Takahashi-san.”

“Good morning to you too, Ichimura-san. I hope that you and your family slept well last night,” Reika politely replied, giving Tetsu a slight bow.

“We did,” Tetsu answered before turning towards Susumu and asked, “Are you ready to go?”

The fact that his friend's tone seemed to not indicate any hostility or residual anger he had from last night told Susumu that perhaps Saya may have calmed him down. He knew from their long friendship that Tetsu carried grudges for a long time and would sometimes take days to forgive and forget anything that angered him. Hell, the last time Tetsu had come up to Tokyo to visit, he had found out that Tetsu still had not forgiven his brother since before Toba-Fushimi. When he had asked Tetsu why he continued to carry such a resentment against his own flesh and blood, the ice-cold glare that he had received in reply was his only answer.

“I was waiting for you, idiot,” he said, placing the tea mug back down on the tray that sat at the foot of the stairs and picked up his bags. While Tetsu would go to open his stationary shop, he, Susumu, would visit the patients near the shop. “I swear, sometimes you take longer to get ready than your wife.”

He was rewarded for his efforts to be light-hearted with a bark of laughter from Tetsu, who said, “Tell that to me next time when you have two kids demanding your attention, Susumu.”

Before the two of them left, Susumu turned back to Reika, who had been watching the entire exchange with an amused smile, and said to her, “Thank you for the tea, Reika. Good luck on your investigations today.”

“And the same luck for your patients, Susumu. May they get better soon,” she answered.

Susumu and Tetsu left and even with the early morning, the streets were already starting to fill with various vendors setting out their wares, opening up their shops, and sending supplies all across the ancient city. Though there had been no poisonings since yesterday's incident with several children, there were still a few whispers around, but generally, people were talking more about the upcoming festivities, especially the one that would start the month-long Gion Festival. Tourists from all over Japan and a few foreigners were starting to pour into the city, and inns were starting to fill up with paying customers.

“She likes you.”

“Huh?” Susumu said as he pulled out of his mulling and and turned his head slightly to see a rather cheeky grin on his friend's face.

“You're a successful doctor who studied under the famous Matsumoto-sensei, and you're still obviously unmarried, considering that you and her were standing quite close to each other this morning...much closer than what would be considered appropriate if you or her were already married. You haven't done anything to show no interest like you did with that old patient of yours and her granddaughter. She likes you, Susumu, and it looks like you like her too.”

Susumu found himself frowning at the same time he felt a small amount of embarrassment creep up on him. It was obvious that Tetsu was talking about Reika, and despite his wanting to deny what his friend had said, he found that a part of him could not. He had thought that perhaps Reika was already married, but as he looked back, he realized that it would have been unusual to any other person that a married woman would be freely running around with friends and helping them at every turn, even if it weren't a murder case afoot.

The shinobi of the Oniwabanshuu rarely married and had children, due to the nature of their work and how young most of them were when they died. When shinobi did marry, bureau leaders, such as old man Okina, would try to ensure that both husband and wife were assigned the same city to try to keep family together. That had been the case for Susumu's old friend, Kai and Kai's wife, Hiroko – both of them had been assigned to Kyoto for a few years prior to Kai's assignment to the Shinsengumi as the secondary shinobi. The two had retired after the Oniwabanshuu evacuated Edo Castle during the revolution and were now living comfortably in Osaka.

He found a strange sense of pleasure at the fact that Reika was not yet married, but that pleasure came with curiosity. The former bodyguard was by no means an ugly-looking woman; Susumu found her quite attractive, but he wondered why she was not married. Had she been married and her husband had died? He pushed the thought away – it was not his place to inquire about Reika's personal life or think about her in a more intimate fashion, especially when there was a crisis going on and he had a job to do to fix that crisis.

“Don't even think about it Susumu.”

The warning from Tetsu caused him to snap out of his thoughts as he looked over to see his friend with an exasperated look on his face. “Think about what?” he asked, confused.

“Don't let her go, Susumu.”

Laughter could not help but escape his lips as he realized that of all things, Tetsu was giving him advice on relationships and love. “You know,” he said, shaking his head slightly, “you're the last person I should listen to, considering that it took you at least two years from the first day you met her to realize that Saya loved you.”

“Yeah, but I didn't let her go,” Tetsu defensively said.

“No, that you didn't,” he said, smiling as he raised his gaze to the clear blue sky. “And I'm glad you didn't.”

“Hey, Susumu. Sorry about last night,” Tetsu said after a few moments of silence, his tone contemplative.

“Don't worry about it,” he said, glancing back down and over at his friend who had a slightly far away look in his eyes. “You're right to be angry. The Oniwabanshuu did not want to pull people like the Shinsengumi into the mess at Edo, but it was out of our hands. Just like this case is too.”

“Yeah, I know and I understand,” Tetsu replied before giving a noisy sigh. “It's just that...it's the children... Promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to catch these guys, Susumu. I don't want my children to go through what I went through. I can't even hold them without thinking about how blood-stained my own hands are, and I don't want them to grow up with demons not of their making haunting them.”

“I promise, Tetsu,” he said, and he meant it.

* * *

_A few hours later..._

 

The only good thing about summer on the Tokai road was that the trees were full of leaves and that the branches arced across the dusty road, giving travelers, whether they be on horse, carriage, or on foot, a lot of shade. Even with the shade, Kenshin was still sweating and beside him, Misao looked like she fared no better, even with her rice-picker's hat covering her. Wordlessly, he handed the skin of water over to her and she took it, guzzling it before corking it and handing it back.

“I really hope he's still there, the old coot,” she said. “I wish we could've taken horses instead. Its going to take us at least a day or so to get to the area where I remember his cabin was.”

Kenshin remained silent, and let Misao continue her half-hearted complaints. There were already a lot of people pouring into Kyoto for the eventual start of the Gion Festival, and thus horses had not been available, since all were needed for carriages and supply transport.

“I hope Ginte remembers me. I mean, he and his wife were kind enough to let me stay with them for a few days when I was searching for Aoshi,” Misao continued to say. “He was a bit of a recluse, so I didn't get to talk to him a lot, but for an herbalist, he really knew his stuff. His wife though, his wife made some of the best dishes I've ever tasted! She told me that she worked briefly at the Aoiya and learned how to make some of our usual dishes. I just wonder why he moves around so much...”

* * *

A strange smell floated in the air when Aoshi stepped into the fairly empty store and breathed in the place. There was a woody composition to the smell and as he looked around, he realized that a part of the strange smell was the fact that there was a stack of fresh cut logs in the corner of the spacious shop. There were also food samples about, along with cast-iron cookware and many utensils to aid in cooking. Another part of the store had been converted to a small food shop filled with colorful ingredients, raw vegetables, and cured meat not of Japanese origin.

“Irasshaimase!”

Aoshi looked over to see that a woman with honey-colored hair elegantly tied up and striking blue-grey eyes, wearing a high-collared, blue-colored western dress that had puffy shoulders, long sleeves, and poofed out like a mushroom cap below the waist, had greeted them. Most westerners that Aoshi had encountered, specifically when he had been under the employ of Takeda Kanryuu, had been men and very few had been women. Those women he had seen while lurking in the shadows had worn similar types of dresses such as the woman, who had greeted them in a near-perfect imitation of a Kyoto-accent. However, this woman seemed to carry herself in a more regal manner than other western women, as if she knew how the effect of her unusual looks would have on the establishment and customers.

“Ah! Akesato-san!” Reika said as she stepped forward, having entered the store after he did. “It's been quite a while since I've seen you manning the shop front!”

“Reika-san!” the westerner said, delight lighting up her face as she came out from behind the counter and approached. “Yes, it has been too long. One of my hired hands is ill today, so I had to come to the front, lest he get all of my customers sick.” Aoshi carefully watched as the woman stopped before the two of them and gave him an appraising look before asking, “Reika-san, who might this be?”

“This,” Reika said, suddenly grabbing him by an arm while leaning into him, “is my betrothed, Yamaguchi Keisuke.”

Rolling with the improvised story that Reika had started, Aoshi responded to the 'affectionate' touch and patted Reika's hands. He hoped it wasn't awkward-looking, for it had been years since he had impersonated another identity out in the field. He pitched his voice a little lower than he normally talked at and said, “Pleased to meet you. Reika didn't tell me that you answered to a Japanese name. I've had some experience in conversing with westerners before. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your western name?”

“Aw, what a charmer, Reika-san,” Akesato said, blushing a bit. “Yamaguchi-san, I'm originally from France and many people have found it hard to pronounce my name. I don't want to inconvenience you, sir, and therefore, ask you to please refer to me as Akesato.”

“Then I will,” Aoshi replied, nodding as Reika let his arm go and had the decency to look a bit embarrassed. Westerners were definitely more open about public displays of affection – something that he was still not used to witnessing, but it seemed that Akesato had not minded the small display that Reika had done. In fact, the proprietor looked positively giddy.

“So, betrothed then?” Akesato said, giving them a big smile and gestured for them to follow her. “Then I know what you're here for, Reika-san. I have quite a few ingredients and recipes translated into Japanese for making what we call in my home country, a wedding cake!”

“Ah, no, we're not thinking of a wedding cake just yet, Akesato-san,” Reika said, causing the woman to stop and turn back. “Of course we would like to peruse the recipes that you have in the future, but for now, we would like to start planning on the dishes that we would like to serve to our guests. Since Keisuke is in the trading business, he has many western acquaintances. There will be a mix of various western and Japanese people attending the wedding.”

“Oh, trading business?” Akesato asked, eyes lighting up in interest. “If I may ask, what kind of trade do you do, Yamaguchi-san?”

“Mostly medicinal herbs from China. I broker with people in Tokyo,” Aoshi answered, using his experience with Takeda to cement the story so that it showed in his words and expression. Granted that the 'medicinal' trade was opium from China, but no one needed to know that.

“Ah, I see,” the woman said. “So then, now that I know about your guest list, let me show you some of the cooking herbs that we keep stock of. You're welcome to smell and taste samples of them. Tell me which ones you like and I'll let you know what dishes are good with them.”

Akesato led them to the other side of the store where rows upon rows of various clay jars and surprisingly, glass jars were stacked on shelves that were almost as high as the store's ceiling. As the woman pulled out samples and poured them into small cups that clearly had been sake cups, Aoshi let his eyes roam around the various labeled jars. Some were herbs were ones that he was familiar with, while some others had such exotic names that he wasn't sure what exactly they were or how to pronounce them. Reika engaged Akesato in a friendly conversation while she sampled most of the herbs after he had a look at them, occasionally asking him to sample one with her. He allowed her to take the lead while he pretended to think about the various herbs that were sampled, occasionally setting one or two aside for later contemplation and examination.

After a little over an hour of sampling, drinking some water to clear their pallets, and talking about various western dishes that would be cooked with the herbs, there was absolutely no sign of the herb that had killed several children. On the other hand, there were five sample packets sitting in front of Reika and him, the ones that they had 'agreed' upon to try out with some dishes before they would make their final choices on what to serve at the 'wedding'.

“I'm wondering,” Aoshi spoke up as soon as there was a pause between Reika and Akesato's chattering. “My clients have always spoken of the advances in western herbs, especially since the famous Matsumoto-sensei studied in the west before returning to Japan. Though we trade mainly with China, the opium market is virulent and strong. We don't anticipate that we will be out of business, but we generally like to have reassurances. Reika told me that there aren't any dedicated western herbal shops in Kyoto, and there are none in Tokyo yet. The closest, she said, to a western herbal store, was your cookware store. I was wondering, Akesato-san, if you knew of any other proprietors here in Kyoto that might be interested in possibly joining my fellow compatriots in a partnership.”

He thought he had pushed a little too far with the story as Akesato's cheerful demeanor slowly slid to one of seriousness. However, that worry was unfounded as the woman said, “Actually, I would be very interested in a business partnership, Yamaguchi-san. You see, I don't keep a large stock, and certainty there is not much to be made from selling western medical herbs, due to the lack of proliferation and doctors who know what to do with the herbs. But, if you think there might be a market in the future for it, I would like to help. The herbs you and your fiancee have sampled today are mainly used for cooking, but a few of them can be used as medicine when combined with other herbs.”

“Ah,” Aoshi said, “I do not have much knowledge of western herbs as Reika here, but do you have samples that Reika does not have that I may bring back to my compatriots in Tokyo?”

“Yes, I do,” Akesato answered, smiling and getting up before gesturing for the two of them to follow her to the back of the store.

As he followed her, he saw that a couple of the other hired hands had glanced at them for a moment before returning to their own customers. Playing the part of a Japanese man used to dealing with the stares of westerners, but still uncomfortable with the direct looks, he glanced down. It was that movement that allowed him to see a strange-looking stalk of a plant peeking out from a crack in the wooden floorboards.

He quickly realized why the stalk looked familiar and hurried on his way, raising his eyes again as he stepped on that particular the floorboard and heard it creak slightly under his weight. What he had just seen was a tiny portion of the dry form of the plant that was killing the children. What he had just stepped on was also most likely a hidden area in the floor, carved out so that it creaked like the other floorboards. Any other person would've thought that it was just wood rubbing against wood, but years of experience told Aoshi that there had been a very slight, almost unnoticeable shift when he had put his weight on that particular area and sunk ever so slightly.

By the time he reached the back area of the store where Akesato was waiting, his mind was racing. There was a very good possibility that someone in the store was the one distributing the poison. It may not be the woman, but it was definitely someone in the employ of the woman.

“These are the herbs that I carry that your betrothed does not in her shop, Yamaguchi-san,” Akesato said, as he returned his attention to the task on hand. He pretended to look over each one, but adopted a slightly confused look. None of the herbs that she was showing them looked like the stalk he had just seen, so it was not being openly sold or consumed. If the Fuuma clan was behind the poisonings, then they were using the store as a front, except for the fact that Aoshi had not seen one Japanese person behind the counter – only western people were running the store. Did the Fuuma clansmen sneak in during the night to help themselves to the hidden cache?

“If you would kindly do, please write down what each herb is used for in terms of treatment?” he politely asked.

“Yes, I will,” the woman replied, taking a couple of pieces of paper and folded it expertly into the small packets that samples of the medicinal herbs were then poured into. Securing the packets, she took a small ink brush and wrote a quick description in Japanese.

“I didn't expect you to know how to write in Japanese,” he commented as both he and Reika took the packets. “It's very surprising to see a foreigner to have the skills to live and speak in Japanese without any help.”

“Thank you, Yamaguchi-san, for the complement,” Akesato replied in a pleased fashion. “I've been living in Kyoto for about two years before I met my husband. He taught me how to write and I picked up most of the language from talking with him. Unfortunately, he was killed during the revolution.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, Akesato-san,” Reika spoke up, pouring as much sympathy as she could into words, though to Aoshi, it actually sounded like genuine sympathy. He took a closer look at the proprietor and could see that perhaps the woman's grief was not faked at all. Whatever the woman might know or not know, there was some truth to her words.

“My sympathies for your loss, Akesato-san,” he said. “Thank you for all that you have done for Reika and I. We will return in a few days with the herbs that we like best and I will pass on these herbs to my partners.”

* * *

As soon as Reika and Shinomori Aoshi paid and left and were well on their way back into the heart of Kyoto, Akesato only had to give a look at one of the other foreign agents in her employ who was not helping a customer. Said agent gave her a slight nod before slipping to the back and out of the store. They had to alert one of the Fuuma clansmen about potential complications, for even though she knew that Reika had run away from the Fuuma when she was just a child, she had been in the employ of the Oniwabanshuu during the revolution.

To any other proprietor, their story about being betrothed would have passed muster, but with what Kitamura Suzu had extracted last night, she knew better. Shinomori Aoshi was a credible threat that she had to deal with, but with Kitamura out of the city, she had the leeway to deal with this threat the way she wanted to. She knew that if she made any overt moves against Shinomori, she would bring about the wrath of the entire Oniwabanshuu. However, the same could not be said for Reika.

She had considered Reika a friend, since the woman had helped her after the war and gave her a foothold in Kyoto, selling something tangible other than her own body. Reports and her own observations of the woman told her that Reika had not been present at the Aoiya during Shishio Makoto's rampage, and that she kept to herself, until recently, which meant that she must've been drafted to help Yamazaki Susumu, whom her foreign agents had told her that the former shinobi-turned-doctor had been drafted by Saitou Hajime of the Tokyo Police Force. Saitou was another threat, since heading up the investigation down here in Kyoto, and with Kyoto's spymaster still in communication with other cities, foreign agents like her were being severely stymied from completing their mission.

Far be it that she cared about the mission that her employers in the west had tasked her with – her one goal was the death of every single Shinsengumi member that had survived the revolution. She would leave Ichimura Tetsunosuke to Kitamura, since the boy was clearly unhinged and thought he controlled the show, but number one on her list was Saitou Hajime. Number two was Kyoto's spymaster, Matsumoto Aya, whom she was sure, knew where every single surviving Shinsengumi lived, due to the extensive Imperial spy network. She would make Kyoto's spymaster give her the aliases of all surviving members before she killed the spymaster. The third person on her list depended on if he could cure the poison or not, and if Yamazaki Susumu found a cure, it was up to her to kill him and destroy the cure. All others associated with the three were, to her, considered as collateral damage.

The Shinsengumi had killed her one true love, Yamanami Keisuke, and ever since that day, she had vowed revenge, no matter the cost.

* * *

_Late Evening..._

 

“Fujita-san!” came the call from the other side of the door to the office that Saitou had been given in Kyoto's main police station. “Your wife is here to see you.”

The irritated sigh that he had half-exhaled at the initial interruption was paused as he lifted his head slightly up from reviewing all the notes gathered so far in the poisoning investigation. His wife rarely visited him when he was working, for she knew just how busy he got sometimes. Curiosity got the better of him and he said, “She can come in.”

The door was opened by the policeman who had alerted him and his wife gracefully entered, shutting the door behind her. Just the sight of her, even in a plain and simple-patterned kimono made him slowly smile as he stared at her, letting his gaze travel up from the tips of her feet covered in tabi to the top of her head. In the privacy of his office, he allowed himself this small luxury, for since moving to Kyoto for this particular assignment, he had not had the chance to just take the time to rest and enjoy a small amount of peace and quiet with his wife.

Saitou Tokio, or rather as she had adopted his surname alias in the new era, Fujita Tokio, was an exquisitely beautiful woman, and that was not just Saitou's own opinion of his wife. Many people had remarked upon the beauty of his wife whenever she attended social functions that he had to attend as a ranked officer of the Tokyo Police Force. She took the compliments with demure and grace, giving the Fujita name quite a boost in popularity, which in turn, helped his shadow work for the police stay more anonymous. Of course, it was all due in part to how his wife had been raised – as the daughter of one of the many vassal lords who had served the Shogunate. She knew more politics than he did, and as graceful as she was helping him navigate the new political arena after the establishment of the new government, it was an entirely different aspect that had caused Saitou to fall in love with her.

It was through the semi-deliberate efforts of Okita Souji, before Edo had been evacuated and just after the Shinsengumi had arrived to seek shelter from Imperial forces pursuing them, that Saitou had been introduced to Tokio. He had initially seen Tokio in the midst of a skirmish outside of Edo's gates, leading a small unit of _onna-bugeisha_. A couple of days after the battle, he had sought out the woman, curiosity getting the better of him, and it was then that Okita had introduced them.

They had not said many words, but Saitou had been struck at just how _powerful_ of a warrior's spirit she carried, despite the fact that she was a woman, along with the sense of mysterious honor that she held. Most women he had met before, high ladies of vassal lords, the commoner women who tended to shops, and even the whores of Kyoto's Shimabara were, in his opinion, shallow and clung to the protection that a man of the house offered. Though some had the guts to stand up and face their life and try to change it, most didn't have the strength to go through with it all the way and faltered when their work was only half-done – settling for what they had.

Tokio was a high-born lady who not only had the elegance, but the drive to accomplish whatever she wanted to, even if he suspected that she caused headaches when she put her foot down and did not budge. She challenged him, she faced adversaries head-on, and she did not flinch or run to the shadows. With the exception of two other women he knew (both of whom he had no interest in), he had never met any other woman like her, and she had intrigued him from the first time they had met in that bloody battlefield. Unfortunately, duties had quickly separated them and it was only after the war had ended that by chance, he had found her in Tokyo.

Their courtship was what westerners called a 'whirlwind' and within weeks of reuniting, they had married. When his request for a case to take him out of Tokyo had been approved last autumn, Tokio had been the one to decide that their young son, Tsutomu and adopted older son, Eiji, would stay in Tokyo until his case was resolved. Eiji was willing to help raise Tsutomu and Tokio had traveled earlier in the year to visit the two of them.

“Hajime,” she quietly said, bringing him out of his rare musings, giving him a smile. “It's getting late.”

Those were all the words she needed for him to know that she knew just how tired and frustrated he was with these poisonings. In the small bag she was carrying, she reached in and took a packet of cigarettes out and laid it on his desk before stepping back. His lips quirked up in a smirk – trust her to know that he was on the last two cigarettes in his current pack. He knew that she did not like his habit of smoking but put up with it only because once she had remarked that it gave him a sort of cool confidence type of look that made others think everything was in control. It was all about appearance, in front of other policemen, and not only he had the appearance, he knew he had the abilities to back up that appearance.

Only she knew that he smoked mainly to calm himself and to ease his frustration, and he also did it to throw off opponents, even colleagues so that they would either leave him alone to continue to solve the problem or actually provide him with necessary information that he needed.

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out and taking the pack. With the pack secured in one of his uniform's pockets, he looked back up in a silent question as to why she was really here. He could have easily asked one of the officers to go buy him another pack or waited until the morning to go get one himself, but for her to actually visit and deliver one was a bit strange.

“When was the last time you or Kyoto's spymaster slept, Hajime? She looks even more tired than you do.”

He frowned slightly, for he knew that she knew that he had been extremely busy since these series of murders had started. It was not because of her concern though, that he had frowned, but the fact that what she said told him that Kyoto's spymaster had been kept up as much as he had, if not more. Was the spymaster's investigation _that_ involved? It worried him, not for the spymaster's constant attention on the investigation that took the attention of the combined efforts of several police forces in different cities that included Tokyo, but the fact that no one on that side of the house was sleeping. It told him that the current situation gripping the country's spy network and government's attention were graver than he had initially thought they were.

However, before he could delve further into what his wife had said, there was a rapid series of knocks on the door before the voice on the other side, “Fujita-san! There's been another body found! It's not a child, its a woman!”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the present: Takagi (Saitou/Fujita) Tokio is a real person, but her characterization in this story was actually based upon several different women of that era. The military side of her was actually based upon Nakano Takeko, an onna-bugeisha who led a corps of female combatants during the Battle of Aizu in the Boshin War. I wrote Tokio like this because it was the only explanation I could think up, given the absurd imaginations of Kenshin and Misao, of the kind of woman that Saitou would marry. Considering his personality in the anime, manga, and live-action movie, I don't think he would've settled for any other type of woman. Also, Fujita Tsutomu is their real-life son.
> 
> About the past: technically, the Battle of Hakodate started in December 1868 and ended in June 1869, but the bulk of the Imperial Army didn't really start pushing into the Republic of Ezo until around late March 1869, with the Battle of Miyako Bay. It snowballed from there...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next were split in half for reader digestion purposes. Have fun nom-ing!

**Chapter 6**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

“They're bringing the body in, Fujita-san,” the policeman said as soon as Saitou had opened the door to the news. He walked out into the station proper without another glance at his wife as the policeman continued to say, “We've sent some people to the Aoiya to fetch Yamazaki-sensei and Shinomori-san.”

“Have someone go get Takahashi too,” he ordered, just as several policemen entered with a cloth stretcher and a body covered by straw tarp. On the heels of the policemen was Takahashi. She was dressed in the dark clothing of a shinobi, and gave a nod to him as she entered, ignoring the strange looks that other policemen were giving her.

“We were rooftop patrolling when we saw the commotion,” Takahashi stated. “Aoshi stayed behind with some of the other policemen to search the area. He said he thought he felt something similar to what you and he encountered yesterday.”

Saitou nodded curtly at the statement, filing it away for later analysis as he followed the policemen carrying the body to an examination room. The men set the stretcher on the floor of the room before lifting the body up and set it on the table. As soon as they left, Saitou closed the door while Takahashi drew back the straw covering.

“She was found in an alleyway,” Takahashi said as Saitou brought a western oil lamp closer to the woman's head. “We think she was headed towards the public outhouses when she was killed.”

“She died in pain,” he muttered mainly to himself as he drew the lamp away from the head, noting that despite the thin outline of blue-black edgings on the woman's lips, her face had been contorted in pure agony.

“Your men interviewed some of the people who lived in that area, including the person who found her,” the kunoichi said. “No one heard her scream. She lived with her mother and worked as a seamstress in a nearby shop.”

The door to the examination room opened and both Saitou and Takahashi looked up to see Dr. Yamazaki hurry in. The doctor placed his bags on the ground, but there was a grim look on his face. “Saitou, I'm going to need sand and sawdust. Reika, help me undress her.”

Normally, Saitou did not take orders from subordinates, especially from those whom he had personally recruited to help, but he understood what Yamazaki intended to do and merely placed the lamp down on a small table and left. Outside of the room, he flagged a couple officers down and ordered them to get a few bags of sand and sawdust from storage. Once the sawdust arrived and he returned to the room with the officers in tow, he saw that the doctor and kunoichi were almost completely done in stripping the dead woman.

While the three waited until the officers were finished dumping the bags of sand and sawdust around the examination table, he saw Takahashi carefully fold up the dead woman's nighttime yukata. Yamazaki had picked out a few instruments out of his bag, one of which was a short blade. The doctor had also tied a piece of cloth around his nose and mouth.

As soon as the officers left, Yamazaki said, “She's pregnant.”

“What?” he hissed, taking an oil lamp off the wall and brought it close to where the doctor was standing and gesturing to the woman's belly with his short blade.

“It's a bit hard to tell right now,” the doctor said, “but there is a slight bump near her groin that curves up to the lower part of her belly. My guess is that she's only about two or three months pregnant.”

Saitou frowned, but he knew that for the longest of times, Tokio didn't even show a belly when she had been pregnant with their son, Tsutomu, until about the last three months before she gave birth. If the poisoner had targeted the baby, then the woman was only collateral damage and the method of delivery for the posion. No poison could be  _that_ precise in killing someone, could it?

“I'd advise both of you to stand back,” the doctor said, looking up. “I'm going to cut her open.”

Wisely, Saitou took the advice, though as he leaned against the wall, he fished for a cigarette and a match. Lighting up and inhaling, he watched as Yamazaki made a careful incision, not too deep, but enough to start letting blood flow out. Black was the color of the blood as Yamazaki pushed the short blade further into the lower part of the woman's stomach before dragging it down all the way to the groin.

With no more pressure holding them in, the dead woman's intestines spilled out and was followed by more black blood. Something else had also pushed out, tangled in an umbilical cord and wrapped up in a thin, semi-translucent sac. Saitou saw Yamazaki lift the short blade slightly and slit open the sac, revealing the gruesome, half-formed embryo with its skin completely covered in blue-black splotches. The baby didn't even look remotely human-like.

The sight was one thing, but the smell was completely different and he heard Takahashi gag before putting an arm over her face. His own sense of smell was already filled with cigarette smoke, but even that was not quite enough to overpower the noxious fumes of the dead baby. This smelled even more vile and worse than a dead, rotting body who had vacated its bowels.

Fortunately, Yamazaki had put the dirty blade down on the table and had walked over to yank the door open, letting fresh air in. Unfortunately, the smell quickly wafted out of the room and caused many policemen to peek their head into the room, just to see what was causing the smell around the station, only to back far away from it. Saitou took the opportunity of fresh air to cross the room and stop near the door, with Takahashi following closely behind.

“The level of precision in which the poison killed the baby first and caused the mother to die from the rotting inside of her is uncanny,” Yamazaki said, pulling his face mask down. “Unfortunately, this also tells us that if it is the Fuuma clansmen controlling and poisoning the people, they're willing to target anyone. I think this was a warning.”

“A warning that they can kill the next generation, even if the women are pregnant with child?” he asked, taking a drag out of his cigarette. He suspected that something was troubling the doctor, but he wasn't one to try to draw it out of him. That was for someone more sympathetic and had more time. He had a duty to do, and that was to capture or kill the poisoners. Ruminations from doctors or anyone else on the investigative team were only excess baggage that was to be discarded. “Don't state the obvious, Yamazaki. How is cutting this woman apart going to help us?”

“It's not going to, in the short run, Saitou,” the doctor replied. “But if they threaten someone like Himura's wife, they might just have a little more than they want to bargain for. Isn't that what you want, Saitou?”

It took him a moment to realize what Yamazaki was saying, and he found that a grim, wolfish grin had worked its way up his face. “No,” he said, almost barking out the word in bitter laughter. Dropping the cigarette he was smoking and crushing it with the heel of his boot, he continued, asking, “How many months?”

“Around two, I think,” Yamazaki answered. “It's her first pregnancy, which is why she doesn't recognize the symptoms, and I haven't told her yet. I wanted to make sure with the herbal medication I gave her in the morning, and when I visited her earlier in the night and asked a few questions, I confirmed my suspicions.”

“Tell her,” Saitou ordered. “I'll take care of the rest.”

_We don't need Himura Battousai's pregnant wife becoming a target_ , he thought.

* * *

Morning was a bustle at the Aoiya as Tetsu helped his children get ready for their walk to the temple-school that was located on the outskirts of Kyoto. Due to the distance between their home and the school, the children attended almost every other day. On the days that the children did not attend, Tetsu taught them while Saya ensured that they did their homework. She also walked them to and from the school, leaving Tetsu to man their shop alone.

“Kanako! Toshirou!” Tetsu yelled across the restaurant. “You're going to be late for school!”

“Coming, 'tousan!” hollered a young boy.

Tetsu shook his head slightly as he saw his son and daughter scamper from the Aoiya's gardens and into the restaurant, managing to avoid patrons and servers as they ran across the large hall. He felt Saya's hand on his arm and glanced over to see that she had a cheery smile on her face. “All right Saya,” he admitted, “they do take after me a bit. But only a bit. Don't tell me that you weren't as rambunctious as they were when you were that little.”

Her answer was just a wider smile as she knelt down and picked up their daughter, who had skidded to a halt in her arms, giggling. Meanwhile, her brother had run up and clung to Saya's leg, but had just as giggly of a grin as his sister. Tetsu shook his head again, wondering how in the world children had so much energy at this hour in the morning.

“All right, kids,” he said, crouching down a bit so that he was slightly eye to eye with his children. “I'm off to work now, so be good and study hard!”

“We will, otousan!” Toshirou chirped.

“Oh, Saya-chan! I didn't expect to see you here!”

Tetsu looked up to see that a beautiful woman had entered the Aoiya and had spotted him and his wife. He saw Saya's eyes light up as she gave a silent wave of her hand in greeting before putting down little Kanako. The girl, ever shy, immediately hid behind her mother's kimono while her brother merely looked up at the adults in puzzlement.

“Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” he said, bowing slightly towards the woman as he saw Saya gesture to him. “And you are?”

“Fujita Tokio,” the woman said, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Your wife has told me many good things about your shop and you.”

Tetsu wasn't sure, but he thought that he heard a slight high-born Tokyo accent within the woman's words and asked, “Are you from around here?”

The woman lightly laughed, but it was not a mocking one as she said, “I'm surprised that Saya has not told you about me. My husband and I moved to Kyoto a few months ago. I bumped into your wife a couple of times at one of the dumpling stands and we just started talking...well, I talked, and your wife wrote.”

Seeing that his wife was quite comfortable, even though Tetsu strangely felt a little uneasy with the woman's presence, though he couldn't figure out why, he let it be. Saya had picked up one of Tokio's hands and quickly ghost-wrote a question.

“Oh, I heard that the famous Yamazaki-sensei was in town and staying here,” Tokio said. “He treated my young son a couple of years ago for a bad fever, and since then my husband and I have been indebted to him. I just wanted to say hello to him and tell him that we are doing well.”

“Oh,” Tetsu said, smiling slightly. “He's a bit busy right now with a patient on the second floor, but I'm sure he'll be glad to see you.”

“Thank you, Ichimura-san,” Tokio said, bowing slightly and moved out of the way. “I'm sure that both of you have a lot to do today, so I will not keep you.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Fujita-san,” he said, bowing slightly before returning his attention to his wife. “See you later, Saya,” he said, briefly squeezing his wife's hands. Ruffling the hair of his children, he gave them a grin and left.

* * *

Tokio smiled to herself as she willed away the pang in her heart as the Ichimura family left the Aoiya, with Saya taking her children towards the outskirts of Kyoto to attend the temple-school and Tetsunosuke headed towards the small, but modest stationary shop. Her own yearning for her sons tugged at her everyday, but she knew that she had to be strong, not only for the sake of them, but for the sake of her husband.

Ever since the Six Comrades and Yukishirou Enishi incident, her husband had been restless and she knew that it was mostly because of the fact that the grudge that he claimed not to carry against Himura Battousai, had not been fulfilled and would never be. Her husband, despite himself, had grown to respect the new Himura Kenshin, though not Himura's way of life. It was the only reason why he had asked for a long-term transfer to a case that spanned different cities.

Since last autumn, they had spent at least a month and a half in Sendai and another two months in Nagasaki, before finally relocating to Kyoto. She had tolerated it and had moved with him in each of those times, leaving their sons in Tokyo. In time, she had learned that the case that her husband had taken was not just any ordinary case – it was a case that had been worked upon by several other officers before Hajime had taken it up. It was a national case that involved almost the entire Imperial spy network and several officers had already died in the line of duty over the years that this case had been opened.

Now though, civilians were getting caught up in the storm that was slowly brewing and swirling around Kyoto – civilians that should not have been caught up, and she was determined to help keep them safe. One such civilian was Himura Battousai's wife, and it was only because she knew how dangerous her husband's case was that she agreed to his request.

She knew that Hajime never wanted to put her in the direct line of fire, but she went into this with eyes wide open – she didn't know details of Himura's life, except that the infamous Hitokiri had suffered through a lot of hardships during the the revolution. She had lived the life of a high-born lady, rarely seeing any violence except for the during the defense of Edo Castle during the Boshin War. If she could help protect one more innocent life, then she would gladly do it.

“May I help you, my lady?”

She turned to give the old proprietor a dazzling smile, laughing slightly to herself at just the awestruck reaction that he had. “I am fine, Kashiwazaki-dono,” she said. That sobered up the old proprietor instantly as she saw a guarded look appear on his face. “I am Fujita Tokio, kind sir.”

“Ah,” was all the old proprietor said.

She knew that he knew who exactly she was as soon as she had said her name. The surname of Fujita was common enough, but considering that she had named him first and then named herself, there was only one person she could be the wife of. “If you would please, show me where Himura Kaoru is staying?”

“Is everything all right?” Kashiwazaki asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “My husband just wanted to ensure that necessary steps were taken for the protection of Himura Kaoru.”

The old proprietor merely nodded and gestured with an open arm for her to go up the stairs. As he followed her up, he quietly said, “When Aoshi and the others made it to Kyoto, he told us that you had commanded a group of  _onna-bugeisha_ during the defense of the city and castle. It is an honor for us to have such a talented woman as yourself, gracing our restaurant and inn, my lady.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. The rumors were correct – the old proprietor did have a talent for flattery, and a keen eye for women.

At the top of the stairs, Kashiwazaki led the way down the hall and after a short walk, they stopped in front of a door panel. Tokio could hear muffled voices from inside, but nothing distinctive. She heard the old proprietor clear his throat and say, “Yamazaki-sensei, there is a guest outside to see you and Kaoru-dono.”

A few moments later, the door opened slightly and she smiled as she saw beyond the doctor, the happy and joyful face of Himura Kaoru – she had just been told the news of her pregnancy. She returned her attention to Dr. Yamazaki and bowed slightly, introducing herself, “Fujita Tokio.”

Her name was all that was needed as the doctor clearly remembered her and instantly understood why she was really here. The story that she had told the Ichimura family was almost all true, except for the indebted part. She straightened herself as she saw the doctor return his attention to his patient.

“Now that we've confirmed that you're pregnant, you need to start being careful. I don't want you to suddenly faint like you did two days ago. I can't always give you that medicine and ginger tea will only help so much as your body adjusts to carrying a child. However, Fujita-san here is an acquaintance of mine and is willing to help you with anything and is willing to watch over you until your husband returns.”

“Oh, I can't possibly ask that of you, Fujita-san,” the young woman said, looking a bit alarmed. “What about your husband or children?”

Laughing lightly, she entered the room and sat in seiza near the doctor. “Please don't worry about me, Himura-dono. My husband works all day. I am a lonely woman in this ancient city. Yamazaki-sensei did not tell me of your condition, but he did suggest that perhaps I could help ensure that you are doing well until your husband returns.”

To cement her role, she gave the young woman a sad smile. Himura Kaoru was a rather lovely-looking woman, though on the plain side, but Tokio could see that she had a big heart. She could see that the young woman accepted people for who they currently were, not what they had been, and it was that strength of her will that Tokio could see making her quite a formidable wife for Himura Battousai.

“Then please call me Kaoru, Fujita-san,” the young woman said, beaming.

“Tokio, for me, please,” she answered.

* * *

Kenshin stared up at the puffy clouds that had only a couple of hours earlier, just after sunrise, been wispy ones. There was a rainstorm coming, and he knew that these parts on the Tokai road were treacherous whenever it rained. Hopefully, they would have already reached their destination before the rain started to pour.

“Hey, Himura!” Misao's shout drew him out of his observations as he looked back down to see the angry face of the young woman inches away from him.

Giving her a sheepish smile, he absently scratched the back of his head and said, “I'm here, Misao-dono, that I am.”

“Ergh,” Misao grunted, forcefully taking him by a hand and dragged him along the dusty road, causing some of the other people walking on the road to give them strange looks. “You're so slow! We're almost there!”

As he picked up his pace, Misao let him go and took the lead. As they crested a rather steep hill and came to a stop at a bend in the road, Kenshin looked at Misao who had furrowed her eyebrows slightly as she looked left and right. She was muttering something under her breath and he could only assume it was something about where this 'Ginte' lived. He waited patiently for her to remember where to go--

“Oy! Whatcha doing here, Misao?”

Both of them glanced up towards the north side of the road to see a young boy whom Kenshin thought looked almost as old as Yahiko, and a man approaching. The boy looked slightly familiar, but it was the man who made him stiffen in surprise. His hands almost went towards his sakabatou to draw and defend himself and Misao, only that he managed to stop and remind himself that in this new era, Okita Souji, or rather the alias that the man had adopted, Shirou Kaneyoshi, was no longer an enemy.

“Eh?” Misao said, as the young boy hurried up to them with a puzzled look on his face. “What are _you_ doing here, Yuki?”

“Walking, idiot,” the boy spat out, looking quite annoyed at Misao. “Sensei and I are headed down to Kyoto. We sent a letter a few days ago. Didn't okaasan tell you?”

“No,” Misao answered, shaking her head, “I haven't seen obasan in the past few days. Ji-ya says that she's been working on a big investigation.”

“Oh,” the young boy said, looking quite crestfallen for a moment before perking back up and asking, “Are you helping her? Is that why you're out here?”

“No. We're looking for Ginte.”

“That old coot?” the boy said, taking a slight step back and continued to say, “He's not living around this area anymore. He moved...again.”

Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Misao said, “What is with that old man and moving?!”

“Erm, I think I know where he's living right now, but the last time I visited was about a year-and-a-half ago, so he may not be there anymore,” the boy said, though at Misao's annoyed look, he said, “It's close to a waterfall. Here, let me show you guys.” Without consulting either adults, the boy started off, headed northwards with Misao following closely behind.

Kenshin heard a quiet sigh of exasperation and glanced over to see that the boy's master, Okita, had a slightly rueful grin on his face. The former First Unit Captain of the Shinsengumi glanced over at him before shrugging and together, the two followed after Misao and Yuki. There was no cause for him to draw his sakabatou, but yet just walking beside the former Shinsengumi made him cautious. It was not the same feeling he got from whenever he and Saitou worked together – all of those times had been desperate and there was an urgent need to put aside old rivalries to work together.

This, however, felt like a 'still-waters-run-deep' kind of feeling. He didn't know what to make of it. Of course, he had clashes against Okita during the revolution, but each time, if he had to say who was the better swordsman at hiding intent, he had to point at Okita rather than Saitou. There had been brief moments during their fights in the past where he could not read the former First Unit Captain at all. Whenever he had fought against Saitou, even during last year's 'accidental' fight, he could read Saitou for the barest of moments before the attack happened. Now though, there was a sense of calm and serenity, but there was also an edge to that calm feeling,

Fortunately, he was distracted from his troubling thoughts as he heard Yuki ask, “So why are you guys looking for Ginte?”

He saw Misao glance back at him with a slightly worried look and did not miss the frown that appeared on Okita's face out of the corner of his eyes. As their walk took a left turn and started to get steeper, due to the hill they were climbing, he answered as Misao turned back, saying, “A few children have been poisoned in the past few days, and the poisoners have not been caught yet. Yamazaki-sensei was brought into the investigation and has requested us to ask Ginte for some rare herbs that he carries.”

“So how come your 'Aoshi-sama' isn't here, Misao?” Yuki asked, though he teased her with his mention of Aoshi, earning a punch from Misao to his shoulder. “Hey, ow!”

Before a squabble could break out between the two cousins, Kenshin intervened and said, “Aoshi is helping with the investigation. If you are both continuing on to Kyoto, then I would advise you to be careful. There are well water poisoning notices up for two areas of Kyoto already to calm citizens, but the poison is not contained within the water. Those investigating the murders are not exactly sure how the poison is being delivered, other than they suspect that a shinobi clan, the Fuuma, may be behind it. Symptoms of the poison include convulsion and lips turning blue-black and so far, only children have been affected.”

“Blue-black lips?” Okita echoed. At Kenshin's nod, his frown got even deeper as the group paused in the climb up the hill, with all of them wondering if the former Shinsengumi knew of anything related to the case. “I may have seen it before, but a very long time ago,” Okita said after a few moments.

“When?” Misao demanded, turning back and approached them, eager to gather information so that she could be of some use in the investigation. Kenshin had long suspected that Misao was feeling quite left out since Aoshi had been asked to help the police. He was pleased that Misao was taking more forward steps to further her relationship with the former _Okashira_ , but on a case like this, it wasn't what Kenshin would have thought appropriate. Still, it was not his place to stop Misao unless the young woman was in danger.

He also noticed that as soon as Misao had demanded the time in which Okita had possibly seen this type of poisoning before, Okita had immediately changed his expression to a neutral, if not withdrawn look. “Best leave it for now, Misao-chan. Even I do not quite remember if what I had seen was true.”

The degree of familiarity in which Okita had spoken to Misao surprised Kenshin, but then again, he, Kaoru, Yahiko, Sano, and Megumi had not stayed too long in Kyoto after they had recovered enough from their injuries to journey back to Tokyo. He and the others had briefly cross paths with Dr. Yamazaki, Okita, and Okita's apprentice, whom he remembered as Yukimura, when the three had arrived in Kyoto last year to help the Aoiya rebuild. Kenshin could only assume that the three had stayed for a while, which explained the familiarity.

“Thank you for your advice and information, Himura-san,” Okita said as Misao sighed and turned back to continue their hill climb. “Since we are headed in the same direction, would you mind if we traveled with both of you?”

Kenshin shook his head no. Minutes later, they finally crested the steep hill just as the first sprinkles of rain started to fall from the sky. There was a clearing in front of them, and in the distance, he could hear a waterfall that was being shielded by dense forest. However, hidden quite cleverly among the trees was a small hut that looked like it had been built from the surrounding trees. There was a thin sliver of smoke snaking up from the hole in the rooftop, but his senses were telling him that something was wrong.

He was not the only one to sense that either as he saw out of the corner of his eyes, Okita untying the cloth bag that he carried and drew out his sword, sliding the scabbard into the hakama's himo on the left before resting a hand on the hilt. Yuki had also stilled and had glanced back to see what his master was doing before drawing out a wooden sword from his own cloth bag, keeping the shinai in the bag. Misao had drew out four throwing knives, two blades in each hand, and was carefully surveying the area, listening for any sounds that give them a hint as to why they were uneasy. The pigeon that had been riding on the top of her rice-picker's hat was now hidden under it and was cooing its displeasure quite softly.

Silently, and almost at the same time, Kenshin and Okita stepped forward. Both cautiously approached the cabin while Misao and Yuki followed, looking warily around. Nothing attacked them in the clearing and all they could hear were the pitter-patter of rain on the leaves, along with the squelching sound of footsteps on the mud that was forming. Kenshin still did not breathe a sigh of relief when they got to the hut, and though there were lights that could be seen from the outside, no one had greeted them yet. He knew that had there been anyone, even if it were an ill person lying prone, at least he would have sensed a presence. There was nothing.

He held out his right arm to prevent Misao and Yuki from advancing further as his left hand grasped the scabbard of his sakabatou, with the thumb poised in the ready position to push the sword out of the scabbard. Wordlessly, he saw Okita hurry to the closest window that the hut had and take a quick peek inside. The former Shinsengumi turned back to him and gave a shake of his head and Kenshin relaxed a small amount. His hand did not leave his scabbard, but he put his right arm down and approached the entrance to the hut.

Sliding the door open, he stepped inside and was followed by Okita and the others. Lanterns were still burning and the dying embers of a once-robust fire lit the area, and it looked like someone had demolished the entire place. Chests of herbs were scattered and broken, and most, if not all the packets that contained the herbs were empty. Bedding was overturned, even pots and pans were scattered, as if a fight had taken place. There was a very strange smell in the air that accompanied the burning scent of the fire pit, and Kenshin suspected that some, if not most of the herbs had been burned.

“What's this?” he heard Yuki say and turned slightly to see that the boy had crouched on the ground and picked up a piece of paper that had splotches of water on it. “Run...now...” the boy said, stating what was written on the paper.

“That's looks like obasan's handwriting,” Misao said, crouching and taking the piece of paper from Yuki. Her rice-picker hat was off and put to the side with the carrier pigeon resting in it. “Judging from the quality, I think it was either written and delivered yesterday or this morning.”

“A warning to Ginte?” Okita asked, as he turned from trying to pick through what was left of a shattered box of herbs.

“A warning to both Ginte and and his wife,” Yuki softly said.

“It seems that neither of them escaped,” Kenshin spoke up. “But they weren't killed here either.”

“How do you know that?” the boy asked.

“I didn't smell blood,” he quietly answered, glancing over towards Okita who nodded silently in confirmation. No matter how someone tried to hide a dead body, whether by scrubbing the floor of blood or even burying the body, the site where the killing had been done was forever tainted by the blood spilled. The Hitokiri inside of him knew what days-old dried blood or even freshly spilt one smelled like, and over the strange scent of burnt herbs and firewood, there had been no distinct scent in the cabin. “Whoever did this knew that we were coming, but Ginte and his wife got a warning first. They might still be alive. Lets see if we can find anything outside that can tell us where they've been taken to.”

He did not want to voice on just how much of a coincidence that the herbalist and his wife were targeted at the same time he and Misao had set off. The fact that Misao had stated that the handwriting on the warning looked like her aunt's writing, made him even more uneasy. He wasn't sure if whatever Matsumoto Aya was doing was related to the current investigation that Saitou was tasked with, but he was sure that the Imperial spy network was quite far-reaching and very powerful. If there was a connection between the missing husband and wife, along with the warning they had received, then there was a traitor among those involved in the investigation.

The heavens had opened up in the short time that the four of them had been in the hut, and though Kenshin tried not to despair, he knew that evidence was being washed away quite quickly. He searched the sides of the hut, on the ground, around the trees that surrounded the area, while a little bit ways away, Okita, Yuki, and Misao searched other areas. He could see signs of struggle from the way branches and leaves had fallen and had been crushed, but nothing was pointing to where Ginte and his wife were.

“Himura! Hey guys!” Misao's voice called out and he looked up to see Misao waving her hands for them to come to her. She was waist-deep in the middle of a thicket, but it seemed that she had found something. He hurried over and as soon as the four of them were gathered, Misao said, “Listen...do you hear that?”

All of them took a moment to listen, and though the sound of rain falling was dominant, there were some squawks of birds and chirps of insects that filled the silence. The waterfall in the distance could still be heard, but after another few moments, Kenshin thought he could hear something  _strange_ . Try as he might, he couldn't strain his hearing enough to identify the sound.

“Someone's chanting,” Misao supplied after a moment. “Maybe he or she saw who took them. Come on!”

Misao took off running into the forest before Kenshin could stop her. Her natural agility in such tight and confined spaces gave her a speed advantage, but he was able to remain on pace with her as she used the strong tree trunks and low-hanging branches to swing herself up. She bounded from branch to branch, and slowly, the sounds of the waterfall in the distance were getting louder. The strange chanting that Misao said she heard though, was almost drowned out by the waterfall, but as Kenshin blocked the noise of the waterfall, he thought he could hear it.

Okita kept pace with him, and behind the two, though flagging a bit due to not being used to running so fast, was Yuki. Neither Kenshin or Okita had their swords drawn yet, but both could sense an oppressive feeling starting to bear down on them as they approached the waterfall.

Roaring waters filled their ears as the forest abruptly thinned out and sent all four of them into another clearing that was bisected by the raging river flowing swiftly. Islands of rock jutted out from the river, but moss covered those rocks, making a crossing quite dangerous. A small island was situated in the middle of the river, with a rather gnarled tree growing out of it. However, the tree was not the only thing to occupy the small island – two people, a man and a woman, were hanging from its branches, strung up by their hands and draped quite precariously over the waterfall. Neither looked to be moving. The fourth and final occupant of the small island was a dark, wispy-looking thing that seemed to float off the ground and was approaching the two.

“Hotaru-chan,” Kenshin heard Okita whisper, horrified.

As if sensing that there were others in the area, the shadow-creature suddenly paused and seemingly turned, pinning its blood-red, glowing eyes upon them. However, that brief illusion was shattered in a blink of an eye when a young man, dressed in a dark-grey hakama and dark-blue uwagi appeared in place of the shadow-creature. Rain-soaked red hair, tied up in a high pony tail framed the young man's face, and a light-purple shawl was wrapped around the man's shoulders and neck, seemingly keeping him safe from the elements. It was the cross-shaped scar and the terrifying golden eyes that stopped the four from moving.

Kenshin could feel an odd constriction wrapping itself around his heart, as if it were trying to squeeze the life out of him. As soon as the apparition of his younger self, as the Hitokiri Battousai, turned towards Ginte and his wife, he snapped out of his fugue and charged. “Stop it!” he shouted, hoping to catch the attention of whatever it was that was wearing the face, clothes, even the mannerisms of himself in bloodier times. “Stop--”

One could say that the shouts of people charging would normally give an aggressor about to kill its prey some pause, especially if the aggressor’s back was exposed, but that was not the case as Kenshin watched in horror as his mirror-image double swiftly gutted from neck to navel, both Ginte and his wife in two strokes.

The silence that enveloped the area was shattered by the rage-filled cry as Kenshin poured every ounce of energy into his legs and leapt over the white-capped river and landed on the island, sword already drawn and swinging down. His doppelganger had swiftly stepped out of the first blow from overhead, but was not lucky enough to miss the second blade belonging to Okita. The clang of metal against metal sung in the rain as Okita used the momentum of his leap to flip over the doppelganger's head and land on the other side.

As Kenshin picked himself up off the mud-slicked ground, he saw his doppelganger warily eye both him and Okita, as if trying to assess which one would strike first and where. Cold, golden, murderous eyes swept over him, sending another swift constriction of his heart that rapidly passed. Many a times during the revolution, Kenshin himself had faced multiple people at once, and it was where his sword style proved to be most effective in dealing with crowds. This doppelganger had his face, his power, and his strength, but there were two things he knew it didn't have the advantage of.

One was Kenshin's extensive experience after the revolution. The second was the fact that it was facing off against two masters in their own sword styles; one of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu and the other of the Tennen Rishin Ryu.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah... a Kenshin-Okita battle pair-up was the primary reason why Okita was kept alive in the epilogue story of my previous series, Echoes. We already had Kenshin working with Saitou, Kenshin working with Sano, Saitou, and Aoshi in the Kyoto Arc of the manga and anime (and hopefully in the next two live-action movies). In crossing over with PMK, I wanted to try this awesome battle pair-up.
> 
> Also, for those who didn't read the Echoes series of stories, how Okita survived TB goes simply like this: in real-life, Susumu was supposed to have drowned during Toba-Fushimi. Due to my beta-reader, Shadow Chaser, being a huge fan of Susumu, I elected to keep him alive. Susumu became a doctor and worked with Dr. Ryoujin Matsumoto to try to find a cure for TB patients. They sort of succeeded in making a temporary stop-gap, but it only worked on very few patients, one of them being Okita. If you think about it, its kind of like modern-day antibiotics regimen for TB patients, except they didn't have antibiotics back then and only herbal medicine to use (which, given the property of herbal medicines, it is possible to produce various stop-gap measures that can last a various amount of time). So, in this story, Okita is living on borrowed time - he's not cured, but his disease is not advancing either...at least not yet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the previous chapter. Please don't skip this chapter...

**Chapter 7**

_Past: Spring, 1869_

 

_The final days of the Republic of Ezo were bloody and chaotic. The Republic's fleet had attempted to capture the Imperial Navy's prized ironclad ship, but failed. Eventually, the Republic's fleet was routed and with the path cleared, the Imperial Army proceeded to invade the island. Fighting to keep their way of life, the Republic's armies attempted to push back the invaders, but they were at a severe disadvantage with personnel and weaponry._

 

_Japan was changing rapidly and the Age of the Shogunate was coming to a violent close._

 

“Deliver this to Hino,” Hijikata solemnly said, handing him a thick, folded letter.

Tetsu hesitated, staring at the letter, for he could not comprehend that his master was actually sending him away. He wanted – no – he needed to stay; he needed to help the Republic...Hijikata needed his help to turn the tide...

“I'm counting on you,” his master softly said, “Tetsunosuke.”

At the sound of his name, his eyes snapped up from the paper to see that far from the usual demanding and irritated expression, Hijikata had a serious, but kind look on his face. Though he meant not to, tears sprang from his eyes of their own accord. Hijikata meant to die, to defend the Republic to the last man and to never surrender. His master knew that he was going to his death, and he, Ichimura Tetsunosuke was not allowed to accompany his master to the fields of Enma.

“What can you possibly gain by staying here?” Hijikata asked, as if warding off Tetsu's unspoken plea to not send him away. “What could possibly change if you die here?”

_Please, kami-sama, no_ ...

“You at least will survive,” Hijikata continued, his tone kind, and even understanding, but the authority was still there, and Tetsu could tell that his master would make it an order if he wanted to. “And then...”

Tetsu didn't even hear the rest of his master's words as quickly reached out and took the letter. Tears were pouring from his eyes and all he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He wanted to desperately stay, but he didn't want the last words he heard from his master to be an order.

_I'll go to Hino, master_ , he thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes clear of the tears and held them back long enough to glance at his master one last time, giving him a solemn nod. He turned and ran, for if he walked, he knew that even before he took five steps, he would return to Hijikata's side, unable to bring himself to leave.

_Survive,_ he thought,  _I will return from Hino to help..._

He ran until his lungs burned, past the marching soldiers, some who were still sporting bandages wrapped around wounds. He ran past cavalry men, troops carrying rifles, men pushing Gatling guns up hills and positioning them towards the bay. He ran, eyes blurred with tears streaming down his face, mixing with the salty sea air as he clutched the letter tightly in his hand. He ran, until he could run no more and finally arrived at the small port where the last of the civilians were getting on board the ship that would evacuate them to safer lands – to the main island, Honshuu.

“My name is Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” he managed to say to the port master at the bottom of the ship's ramp, as he breathed quite heavily. “I need immediate passage on this ship. I have a message from Hijikata- _kyukuchou_ of the Shinsengumi to deliver to the mainland.”

“Let him get on, port master,” a voice said from behind him and he turned to see the second-in-command of the Republic's Army, Jules Brunet, approach. “His passage is paid for.”

Tetsu's eyes widened slightly as he saw Brunet hand over two wrapped packets of solid gold currency to the port master who absently nodded for him to get on. As he climb the ramp, he heard Brunet say, “This should cover all of them. Give the passengers their share back. They will need everything to start anew on the mainland.”

“Yes, sir,” the port master said. “T-thank you and may your God give you a good outcome in your battles.”

Brunet said nothing to the port master except to nod. However, the Frenchman then turned to Tetsu and said, “Go, Ichimura. I hope that if fortune favors us, we shall meet again in the future.”

“Thank you, Buruneto-san,” he answered. He turned and hurried up onto the deck of the ship. While other passengers sought to make themselves as comfortable as possible below deck, he sought the aft and stood by the railing, avoiding the sailors as much as possible who were climbing the rigging and getting ready to unfurl the sail.

Minutes later, a good gust of wind blew and the topsails were unfurled to catch it, sending the ship away from port. The anchor was being pulled up from bay and as the wind continued to blow, the ship slowly gained speed. Still, Tetsu did not leave the aft and looked out towards the port, which it and his home for the last few months were slowly dwindling.

_I will return as soon as I can, master,_ he thought.  _Please don't die!_

* * *

_Later..._

Hijikata hissed in pain as the soldier's rifle shot went wide just as he threw the end piece of a bayonet at him and killed him, but not wide enough to avoid being hit by the bullet. With his left arm hanging uselessly, he staggered up, drawing his katana to help him before yanking it out of the mud and looked around for another Imperial soldier to kill. The ground was saturated in the blood of the deceased, and as his fellow soldiers were desperately trying to push back the Imperial forces, they were faltering.

“Hijikata!”

He turned slightly at the sound of his name, aware that soldiers all around him were falling and that they were slowly being encircled in a sea of enemies. Of all the people he didn't expect, he saw Brunet stab and slice his way through a throng of soldiers with his sabre, before drawing out his pistol to shoot another dead. Brunet had told him that he would be among the bulk of the southern portion of forces closest to the docks, defending the civilians who were fleeing the battlefield, which was why he, Hijikata, had made sure that his page had been sent right away to the docks, before the Imperial forces landed.

“Ootori has given the command to fall back to Goryokaku!” the Frenchman said as Hijikata felt him grab the torn and tattered sleeve of his uniform jacket and tried to pull him away. “Hosoya and Iba have been killed. We _need_ to regroup!”

_Hosoya and Iba_ , the names crossed his mind; those were two of the other commanders of the several troops who had been the second line of defense between the docks and this wooded area. They also commanded what heavy artillery the Republic had managed to bring with them last year. If they had fallen, then the entire island was about to be overrun by Imperial forces.

“ _Kyokyuchou_!” one of the men, who had turned slightly while pushing his entire weight into his rifle which was braced against the rifle of an Imperial soldier, “Please go! We have chosen to die here. The other soldiers need you! We will cover your retreat!”

Hijikata felt as if wool had been pulled across his eyes and ears as he stared at his men, desperately still trying to keep the wall of Imperial soldiers from collapsing on top of them. A forceful tug by the Frenchman snapped him out of it and he reluctantly fell back, just as the circle of troops closed and tried to contain the Imperialists.

There were no horses as he and Brunet ran as fast as they could through the woods, towards the star-fort. However, with each pounding step on the dirt, sharp pain lanced through his body, and Hijikata realized that the bullet wound he had sustained on his left arm was more serious than he had initially thought.

He could feel his steps waver as his body refused to obey his mind to keep running. It was the forceful shake and the painful grip of a hand on his right arm that snapped him out of his fugue. He could see the slightly fuzzy face of Brunet yell something at him, but he couldn't hear. He felt himself being sat on the ground and saw some strips of cloth being torn up, but try as he might, he could not will his body to move or stop Brunet from administering medical help.

All of his senses came rushing back to him in one sudden blast of pain across his entire body, when he felt a finger  _dig_ its way into his flesh near his shoulder. He howled in pain, as his mouth tried to shut and clamp down, but a very thick wad of cloth had been stuffed into his mouth. It had prevented him from biting into his own tongue and though the pain was almost unbearable, he managed to keep himself awake. To pass out now was certain death, and he was determined not to die in this forsaken land.

What felt like a lifetime later, the pain started to recede and Hijikata looked down and over to see that Brunet was wrapping a long piece of cloth around his shoulder and chest. His clothes were bound even tighter than they already were, and it was then that he understood that by using the layers that were already there, Brunet was trying to stymie the blood flow as much as possible. He was slowly bleeding to death and there was no way to stop it.

“We need to get you to a doctor as soon as we arrive at Goryokaku,” Brunet said, knotting the strip of cloth. “I couldn't find the bullet, but you don't have an exit wound, which means the bullet is still rattling somewhere inside your body. This should keep you going long enough for us to get there.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling a lot more clear-headed than he did earlier, but still not fully functional. He accepted the hand that Brunet offered and was pulled up. His sword, which had been dropped, was picked up by the Frenchman and he graciously accepted it. It would do no good for him to sheath it now, so he kept it in a tight grip in his right hand.

“You're a hard man to kill, Shinsengumi _Kyoukuchou_ Hijikata Toshizou,” a bitter, youthful voice called out to them.

Both men looked up to see a pale-haired man, dressed in a western uniform with a blood-red scabbard tucked to his side, and the katana gripped in his right hand, dripping with blood. The fact that the young man had come from the opposite direction of where the fighting was, and was dressed in the Republic's uniform told Hijikata that this person was the traitor that he had been searching for, for the longest of time. Everything that he had thought of, from the fact that a traitor or traitors were masquerading as loyal Republic troops to possible assassination attempts when the Imperial forces stormed Hakodate was correct.

“Kitamura Suzu?” he ventured the guess as Brunet drew his sabre out and readied himself.

“In the flesh,” the man simply said, stopping just out of reach of Hijikata's potential first strike.

“Tell me who and where the other traitors are, and I might let you live,” he challenged, baring his teeth in a grim smile.

“Let me, Hijikata,” Brunet said, holding up an arm as if to prevent him, Hijikata, from advancing. “You're injured.”

“He's mine,” he brusquely replied, taking a step forward. “This man was Yoshida Toshimaro's page. Yoshida was one of the most brutal and ruthless revolutionaries. I've had experience fighting people like him. If his page is the same, you don't stand a chance.”

“No need to fight on who gets to try to kill me,” Kitamura said, giving both of them a very dangerous smile as Hijikata stared in almost disbelief as dark grey smoke seemed to pour out of every part of the young man's body. It looked like a shadow had formed right next to Kitamura, but the sun was at the wrong angle in the sky for even such a thing to show.

“ _What is God's name is that_?” he heard Brunet softly say in French.

“It's just me and my shadow,” Kitamura lightly said though the tone of his voice had gotten quite sharp. Hijikata blinked as two glowing red eyes appeared on the dark shadow and a blink later, the shadow had taken on a form. Ice formed in his stomach as he realized who had exactly attacked him during the winter. The shadow held Souji's face and mannerisms, but the maniacal glee was still cemented in its eyes. “It's just me and my shadow, Hijikata...feeding off of your fear.”

“I'll ask again, how many others are there. Tell me now and we'll spare you,” Hijikata said, swallowing and pushing the sudden spike of fear as far back in his mind as possible.

“Where's your page, Hijikata?” Kitamura suddenly asked, and he could hear a strangely gleeful tone to the question. “Where's Ichimura Tetsunosuke?”

“Whatever you do, Buruneto-san,” he whispered to the Frenchman, ignoring the assassin's question. “Do not underestimate that shadow-creature.”

The Frenchman gave a grave nod of his head, and Hijikata returned his attention to Kitamura. He knew that he had neither the strength or dexterity to face off against the shadow creature, but at least he hoped that Kitamura was less of a challenge than the creature. Bracing himself for a moment, he took a deep breath and unleashed an ear-shattering  _ki-ai_ just as he charged.

Not a second later, Kitamura met him face on, slashing down with an overhead strike to which he blocked it with a diagonal one. He grunted as his armed wavered with the amount of force that Kitamura had behind the strike, but he had the advantage of height and used it. Ramming his body into the younger man, he managed to force Kitamura back and completed the diagonal block by slashing down, nicking Kitamura in the wrist.

Kitamura jumped back, but Hijikata pressed onwards, holding his sword parallel to the ground, with the blade facing the sky and charged. Kitamura managed to block the chest-level thrust, but his sword was forced down by Hijikata's sword. Faster than the young man could recover from the knock down of the blade, Hijikata quickly pulled back his blade and stabbed up towards Kitamura's jugular.

The strike didn't connect where he wanted it to go, for it was only by sheer chance that Kitamura managed to dodge and had recovered enough to bring his sword back up and knock the blade away so that Hijikata only hit Kitamura's shoulder. Hijikata pulled the blade back out and attempted an upwards swipe, only to meet resistance from the young man's blade. This time though, he could not keep the strength within his one arm, and could feel his strength ebb from him as Kitamura kept the pressure on his blade.

The corner of Hijikata's eyes were starting to become hazy again, and he knew that even with the tight bandages that had been applied only a couple of minutes earlier, he did not have the strength to fight Kitamura to his fullest. Summoning what he could, he managed to push Kitamura off and took a few steps back. The brief reprieve that was granted to him was a relief as he flicked the blood off of his blade and tried to slow down his breathing. He was breathing too hard, too fast, and it contributed to the dizziness he was starting to feel as his shoulder wound let his blood pour out and soak his clothes.

In front of him, he saw Kitamura clutch the shoulder where he had managed to wound him, all the while with a maddening grin on his face. The sounds of swords clashing also briefly drew his attention towards the other duel going on and saw that though Brunet was holding his own against the shadow creature, using a sword style that Hijikata did not recognize at all and could only assume it was European, the Frenchman was loosing against the shadow creature. On the other hand, though the shadow creature possessed Souji's face and mannerisms, there was a brutality to which the creature attacked Brunet that seemed almost animalistic and chaotic.

“You're going to have to kill me, Hijikata, if you want to save your friend,” Kitamura said, as Hijikata returned his attention to the young man who was still clutching his wounded shoulder. “By the way, where's your page? Where's Ichimura Tetsunosuke?”

“Why the hell do you want to know?” he asked, readying his sword again for the second round.

“I miss him, Hijikata. I really do,” Kitamura said, and Hijikata felt chills go down his body as he saw a maniacal wistful look overtake the young man's expression. “We were friends, did you know that? I think we were more than friends. But then Tetsu betrayed me and killed my master.” Kitamura released his hand from his shoulder, as the tone of his voice and expression grew eerily calm but held an incredible amount of fury within the words. “I want to know where he is, Hijikata, so that I can give him the same pleasure, the same despair, and the same suffering...when I kill you.”

Hijikata said nothing except to charge. He didn't know all the details of what had happened that night at Ikedaya except that Kondou, Nagakura, Souji, and Tetsunosuke were present and one or all of them had fought against Yoshida. None of the four had ever told him who had struck the killing blow against Yoshida – even his inquiries to Kondou had been met with silence and an uncomfortable laughter. He didn't understand why Kondou, Nagakura, or even Souji would keep it from him, but back then, it had been good enough for him to know that Yoshida had been killed. Now however, though he regretted it, he knew that he never needed to know to understand just how much danger Tetsunosuke was in. He had long suspected that his page would never be completely safe even if he, Hijikata died, and thus he had written in the letter to his sister and brother-in-law in Hino to keep Tetsunosuke safe for a few years until the notoriety of the Shinsengumi faded.

He struck in an overhead blow and scraped his sword down Kitamura's block before releasing and going again for another quick strike. Each attempt at trying to land a hit on the young man was blocked with force, and he could feel his strength ebb even further away. He knew that if he kept this frenzied attack up, he would eventually be defeated by a careless and weakened block. However, if he also kept the speed of his attack as high as it was now, he could drive Kitamura into a corner, for with each blow he was attempting, the young man was slowly but surely taking small steps back.

Several attempted strikes later that included some under hand and side strikes, Hijikata finally maneuvered Kitamura towards a cluster of trees. He saw the young man glance back for just a moment and in that moment, he slashed down, managing to wedge Kitamura's katana between the young man's shoulder wound and neck. However, just as he was about to drag his blade up to deliver the killing blow on Kitamura's neck, he overreached and pain suddenly exploded across his chest and left shoulder.

Staggering back as hazy pain suddenly filled his eyes, he blearily saw a stream of blood flow out of him, with Kitamura's free left hand covered quite liberally in it. There was a glint of metal that flashed before his eyes a moment later and Hijikata felt as if someone had taken a heated blade and sliced it through him. A howl of pain escaped his lips, but he couldn't hear it as felt himself falling back, dropping his sword, darkness almost taking over him. He was barely aware that his left arm went flying through the air as his blood gushed out of the wound, creating a thick blood-mud puddle on the ground.

“Hijikata!”

Brunet's shout brought him back from the edge of darkness as he snapped his eyes open found himself staring at the tip of Kitamura's bloodied blade. There was a faint noise of someone trying to scramble to him, but was blocked as the sound of his own heartbeat, betraying him and pumping his own life force out into the hell forsaken ground, overtook his senses. He couldn't move if he wanted to and he could only stare at the blade, knowing that he was about to die.

“My master lost his arm at Ikedaya,” he heard Kitamura say, but it sounded so distant, so faint. “He also lost his head.”

Suddenly, the blade was lifted from his vision and only the face of Kitamura, still so young, yet with such old eyes that held an insurmountable amount of anger in them, filled Hijikata's vision. “Let me ask you one last time, Hijikata,” the young man whispered into his ear. “Where is Ichimura Tetsunosuke?”

“Safe,” he struggled to say, feeling so cold and tired. There was no more he could do and everything that he had done was done. All the regrets he had, for giving Souji his first blade at the age of nine, to accepting Tetsunosuke into the Shinsengumi all of those years ago... all the respect he had for his fallen comrades and friends... almost everything he wanted to do in his life, was fulfilled. “My son is safe. That's all that matters.”

* * *

The raw scream of a man who lost a dear friend filled the air as Jules Brunet saw the head of Hijikata Toshizou, Commander of the Shinsengumi, fly through the air. Hijikata's head landed in a wet thump on the ground and moments later, the shadow creature that Brunet had been fighting disappeared, causing the Frenchman to loose his balance and crash down on his hands and knees. That, however, did not stop his inarticulate cry of rage as he immediately got up and attempted to charge Kitamura, using his sabre as if it was a rapier.

Already worn out and injured by the shadow creature, it didn't take Kitamura any effort to stop Brunet as the young man easily dodged the sabre and landed two brutally powerful punches – one into Brunet's stomach, the other into a shoulder. The Frenchman spun and landed on the ground, winded, with his sabre flying away and landed on the mud some ways away.

“My quarrel is not with you, Frenchman,” Kitamura said. “Go back to your foreign lands. Your pathetic attempt at helping the Shogunate dogs is at an end.”

Brunet coughed, trying to find breath as he struggled to get up, but felt himself flopping back into the mud as Kitamura slowly walked away with the shadow creature dissolving back into him. It felt like a lifetime later, but was in fact only minutes that the clatter of horses was heard.

“ _Brunet_!”

“ _Sir_!”

The Frenchman opened his eyes to see that his four other comrades had arrived at this area on horseback and had surrounded him. He felt someone try to lift him up, and with the assist, he found himself standing. “ _Hijikata is dead_ ,” he said to them in French.

“ _Sir, we have to retreat. The Coetlogon is ready to sail._ Ootori _has decided to surrender to the Imperial forces. We need to go_ ,” one of his comrades said.

As much as Brunet wanted to stay, he knew that they, being foreign forces, would not be treated well when the surrender was given. As much as he wanted to chase down the white-haired man who had killed Hijikata, he knew that it would be futile. Perhaps from France, and with time, he would be able to hunt the young assassin down. He knew that he could also see if he could use his own influence to deploy agents and help keep an eye on Ichimura. If he knew Hijikata, he knew that the man would ensure that Ichimura would be safe, and since Ichimura had a valuable skill in languages, it would be easy to track Ichimura down and keep an eye on him. It would be the least he could do for a friend and an incredible commander.

“ _Please take_ Hijikata's daisho,” he said. “ _I will eventually need to return it to his son_.”

 

_The Republic of Ezo surrendered to the Meiji government on May 17, 1869._

 

_Hijikata was killed during the Battle of Hakodate. Brunet and the other French commanders escaped on a French warship. Though Brunet was wanted by the Meiji government for punishment of his activities during the Boshin War, he had won popular support with France and her people – France denied the extradition._

 

_Having been sent away by Hijikata to Hino, Ichimura Tetsunosuke did not find out about his master's death until weeks after the Republic had surrendered. He stayed with Hijikata's sister and brother-in-law for a while before he decided to travel to Kyoto to try to find Saya and start life anew._

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Hijikata was killed in this story, though in real-life there are several different accounts as to how he died. One of the most common accounts was that he died from rifle shots during the Battle of Hakodate. This also ends most of the flashback parts in the chapters. There will be a few more flashbacks, but nothing else from Hakodate or the Republic of Ezo.
> 
> Also, since my manga collection of PMK is woefully patchy, and I don't have time to sit down and translate from my Japanese versions from volume 4 and onwards of PMK (not PM, which was the first manga series), I've used the anime as my primary source - barring several PMK-Saitou episodes and the episodes that involve those onmyous. Anywho... next chapter is back to the present with Kenshin and Okita fighting against Kenshin's worst nightmare.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Steady rain poured from the skies, but for only a moment, the three combatants did not move to strike or defend. A low growl escaped the creature's lips as it darted it's eyes between the two, trying to assess which one was the stronger one, but it could not as the one which whom its master had drawn its fear from struck first. It was the slight movement of flame-colored hair followed by a glint of a blade in the air that told it to move. It did, and nimbly jump out of the way of the Dragon's claws, only to raise an arm bereft of armor and clothed in only cloth that were perceived by its opponents and block a strike by its other opponent, the Dire Wolf.

Though the creature was mindless, it could still feel its master's emotions, and the most prominent one was the fact that its master felt inordinately pleased at the surprised reaction from the Dire Wolf. There were no means that enabled the claws of both creatures attacking it could harm it, for it was made from nothing but the fear that saturated the Dragon.

With a snap of its wrist, the blade that rested on its forearm for a moment flew back, before it brutally punched the Dire Wolf in the chest, sending its opponent flying. It wasted no time as it turned back and drew its katana out, lunging at the Dragon. Meeting the Dragon head-on, it pushed with all of its strength and then some more as it felt a surge of power from the ancient soul of the land course through, causing the Dragon to stumble. It continued, taking the opportunity to thrust the blade in its hand – striking in an over head blow – swiping up under hand to cut from chin up – sweeping to the side to gut – striking all over the place, driving the Dragon further and further back, towards the shore of the craggy island.

Its master knew that if it could get even just the Dragon or the Dire Wolf to fall into the water, it could defeat the other one with no problem. To aid in its relentless attack, it also felt its master call forth fog that was guaranteed to muddle senses of any swordsman. It was the same trick that its master and all others who practiced the art like the master, used so many years ago to help assassinate their prey.

It could see the fog quickly roll across the rough waters of the river, altering the battlefield with a heaviness that did not affect it, but had a pronounced effect upon its prey. The Dragon was slowing, and it could see the widening of the Dragon's hellish eyes as the Dragon realized that there was something incredibly wrong. The speed in which the Dragon kept attacking were still being matched blow for blow, but it did not have to increase the speed, for it could see the Dragon slowing with each counter blow and strike.

However, it suddenly stopped as its master told it that the Dire Wolf was back, and remarkably, even with the heavy fog surrounding the area, it turned to not only hold the Dragon at bay with its katana, but to also stop the Dire Wolf again by allowing the palm of its hand smack into the sharp blade. Whatever the Dire Wolf had attempted, trying to strike three places at once on him, had not worked, for it could not feel anything on its ghostly body, except for the teeth of the Dire Wolf's blade cutting slightly into its palm.

It did not wonder why when before it had blocked the Dire Wolf's blade with its arm and had not been injured – it knew; its master had been discovered. It could see the Dire Wolf shout something and could hear the Dragon answer, but it did not understand what was being said, for it was only a tool; a means to an end. It mentally howled for guidance from its master, and just as it saw the Dragon attempt to leap from the island back to the mainland, it was given one final order: kill the Dire Wolf.

* * *

Kenshin felt a chill pass through him as the inhuman howl of his double shattered the air, just as he managed to land on the edge of the river, wobbling slightly as he regained his balance. It had taken what remained of his strength to leap from the knee-high fog that seemed to slow both Okita and him down while not affecting the doppelganger. The blindingly fast attacks that his double had inflicted on him had been barely matched by him, and he could feel exhaustion eating at him.

He glanced back to see Okita fighting and moving as fast as he could under the grip of the debilitating fog, but he could not worry about the former Shinsengumi right now. Misao and her cousin, Yuki, were in trouble.

In the distance, he could see a dark-clothed figure nimbly jumping in and out of the fog, seemingly unimpeded by the strangely dense hold it had on everyone else. Misao was moving, but she was slightly slower than the enemy shinobi, and he could see her faltering against the shinobi attacking her. Her cousin, Yuki, was struggling to even move in the fog, to attempt to aid Misao, but he was helplessly held in place.

The fog was unlike anything he had encountered before, and though occasional swirls of it rose higher than his knees to almost his waist, it felt like millions of ghostly hands were grabbing at him, trying to keep him from moving. It was taking most of what was left of his strength just to move, but his cold fury gave him the additional energy to force his way through the murk.

Sheathing his sword, he angled his waist and dropped his right hand down slightly. Taking a deep breath, he stepped in as quickly as he could with his right foot and drew his sakabatou. The high speed of the draw cleared the fog in front of him and though it wasn't enough to clear the entire area, it was enough to provide a direct path to Misao and the enemy shinobi.

He sprinted and leapt into the air before the fog could close around him again and trap him. “Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Ryuustsuisen!”

The lightning-fast strike connected and slammed the shinobi into the ground. Blood streamed from the point of impact on the shinobi's head, but as Kenshin landed, he did not sheathe his sword or relax – the shinobi had taken the impact, but was still conscious. The shinobi suddenly sprang up with such vigor and agility startling Kenshin for a moment and gave the shinobi time to back flip away. However, the injuries proved to be debilitating the shinobi enough that Misao had coolly reacted to Kenshin's intervention to attack.

“Kansatsu Tobikunai!”

A flurry of throwing knives flew from Misao's hands and though most were blocked by the short blade of the enemy shinobi, there was a sluggishness to the shinobi's movements that could not stop all the blades. Three connected with pressure points and managed to slow down the shinobi enough for Kenshin to launch a second attack through the fog entrapment.

Kenshin ran as fast as he could through the fog with his sword slightly parallel to the ground before bringing the blade parallel against his chest and with a quick, strong jump and the speed of the blade doubled with the sharp side gripped between two knuckles, he struck. “Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Ryuushousen!”

The shinobi flew up and crashed into the muddy ground again, this time, completely unconscious. It was as if a hood had been lifted from his senses as Kenshin saw the fog quickly recede and the sounds of nature coming back full force. Though exhaustion gripped him, Kenshin sheathed his sword as he glanced back to see that the ghostly shadow of himself that had been dueling against Okita had disappeared.

“Sensei!” Yuki cried just as the three on the mainland saw Okita drive his sword into the ground and lean heavily against it.

“I am...fine...” Kenshin heard Okita faintly shout against the noise of the falling rain and roaring waterfall. The ex-Shinsengumi raised a hand to wave away their concerns, but even though Yuki and Misao would have been assuaged by the movement, Kenshin was not. He could see the minute movements that belayed exhaustion in Okita – and he knew that had he not managed to knock the shinobi out right then and there, the ex-Shinsengumi would not have held out much longer against such an insanely strong opponent.

He knew that both he and Okita were fighting against their own bodies that were slowly failing them. Him, Kenshin, from the fact that Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu took so much strength and energy to correctly execute that he would no longer be able to wield it soon; and Okita, who had only mentioned in passing that though the disease that wracked his body was halted, it was not cured. Neither of them had the means to fight protracted battles at full strength, and this battle against this singular Fuuma shinobi who wielded strange abilities told him that the supposedly dead clan harassing and murdering children in Kyoto were very strong...possibly stronger than any of Shishio's or Enishi's forces.

“Misao-dono,” he turned slightly to see the young woman eyeing the unconscious shinobi with unease, even though she wasn't holding any throwing knives. “Please tie him up.”

“Will do, Himura,” she said, nodding as she swallowed. “I'm going to gag him too. It's how I found him – he was the one chanting.”

Kenshin nodded and turned his attention to Yuki, who had walked to the edge, still looking for an attempt to get across the raging river to his master. He approached and said, “Yukimura-dono.” The boy turned and Kenshin gestured to where Misao was, saying, “Please help Misao-dono. Your sensei and I will return the bodies here so that we can bury them.”

He said it loud enough so that he was sure that Okita heard it and looked up to see that Okita was indeed nodding as he pulled his sword out of the muddy ground and flicked it to get the mud off before sheathing it. As the boy trudged across the muddy ground to assist Misao, Kenshin took a few steps back before sprinting and leaping across the distance.

He looked up from his landing crouch to see Okita kindly extending a hand out to help him up. There was a pallid look to the ex-Shinsengumi's face, but Kenshin wasn't sure if it was because of the fight or the cloudy skies that continued to pour rain upon the area that gave the area a grey look, or that Okita was unwell. He accepted the offered hand and stood up. “Thank you for your kindness,” he said.

Okita silently nodded and the two of them solemnly made their way to the edge of the island, where the bodies of the two killed by the creature. The roar of the waterfall was pounding in Kenshin's ears, but it was Okita who stepped forward and unsheathed his sword to cut down the first of the bodies. Gently catching the body, Kenshin hefted the body until he had a secure grip on it. It was lighter than normal, with the rain having washed away most, if not all of the blood that had been drained from the massive, fatal wound.

He heard the snap of another rope being cut and looked over to see that Okita had caught the dead woman and shifted her lifeless body to the other arm before sheathing his sword. “Did you know her?” he politely inquired, remembering that Okita had whispered a woman's name as soon as they had seen who were hanging from the trees.

“Many years ago, Himura-san,” Okita answered, but did not elaborate.

Together, they jumped across the river and back to the mainland. As tired as he was, Kenshin refused to drop the man's body – two innocent people had been targeted just because of something they were not involved in, and the least he could do was give them a proper burial. Both he and Okita walked towards the trees where Misao and Yuki were finishing with their task. As they approached, Kenshin could see that the enemy shinobi had been hog-tied and gagged with several long strips of cloth torn from the shinobi's own clothes.

Misao was the first to come towards both of them, but there was an apprehensive look on her face as she saw the two bodies. Her hands flew to her mouth as she finally got a good look at who they were, and tears sprung from her eyes. It was then that they all had their confirmation as to the identities of the man and woman – they were Ginte and his wife.

It took a couple of hours to dig the necessary depth for the graves to bury husband and wife. Even though the rain had let up to a drizzle by the time silent prayers were said for Ginte and his wife, all four of them were thoroughly soaked. None of them seemed to feel it though, and silently, the four of them made their way back through the woods. The still-unconscious shinobi had been left on the island, tied to the very tree he had hung his victims from, and though Kenshin was slightly disturbed that it had been Yuki who had suggested it, he had not argued the point. The shinobi had not shown any mercy, and after what had happened, Kenshin was not feeling quite as merciful as he usually was.

“I'll send a message to Ji-ya,” Misao sullenly said as they arrived at the wrecked cabin.

“There's an inn near the main road that we can stop by for tonight,” Kenshin said to Okita and his apprentice as Misao entered the hut to retrieve her rice-picker's hat and the pigeon. “If the two of you are still willing to traveling to Kyoto with us, then there are a lot more that both of you will need to know, that you do.”

He saw Okita turn to fully face him, all emotions sealed and completely unreadable on his face. It was the same expression that Kenshin remembered witnessing during the times he and the former Shinsengumi crossed swords during the revolution. There was, however, one difference – Kenshin could _feel_ Okita's _ken-ki_ ; a clear sign that despite what had happened at the waterfall, Okita was not faltering and still had the strength to fight. The former Shinsengumi declared, “Whatever the future road may hold in this crisis, Himura-san, my sword will be there to help.”

* * *

_For all of his merciful ways, for Himura Battousai leaving his victim in the middle of a waterfall island tied up is a contradiction to his words..._ he thought to himself.

“Kitamura-sama.”

The insanely gleeful, almost sadistic grin on Suzu's face all but disappeared as he turned to see the shinobi that had disturbed him was crouched before him. “Yes?” he asked in an impatient tone. Himura Kenshin and the other three that the former Hitokiri traveled with thought that they were safe from attack since they had 'defeated' one of the Fuuma shinobi that Suzu controlled, but Suzu was about to prove them wrong... if only he had not been disturbed.

“Akesato-san has informed us that our sponsors have sent out notices for forces to take more drastic measures in blinding the Imperial information network. Their own forces still cannot move after all that have been accomplished in Kyoto and in other cities,” the shinobi said.

Suzu gritted his teeth – damn them, the ones who had given him the financial means and backing to wage this shadow campaign. Though his 'sponsors' were all back in the west, and only agents of their choosing occasionally chose to show themselves to him, he already had plenty of experiences with the consequences of disobeying their orders. They had the reach to control him, and it irritated him to no end on how short of a leash they kept him on – but it was because they provided him with the wealth to rebuild and hire the Fuuma shinobi clansmen that outweighed almost every other annoyance.

His 'sponsors' had promised him that he could get revenge, but with parameters, and it looked like this was one. He tightened a fist, but resisted the urge to pound the messenger before him into pulp. His other hand stroked the black-lacquered skull and he tilted his head for a moment, listening to the soothing sound of his master's words in his ears.

“My master says that the best way is to start planting those devices we smuggled in during the chaos of last year's sinking of the _Rengoku_ ,” he said, smiling. “Inform Akesato to start planting them around the primary station and as soon as they're done, wait for a southeast-ward wind to set it off. That way, the fire will spread to the train station and ferry docks.”

“As you wish, Kitamura-sama.” the shinobi said. Moments later a thin sliver of smoke seem to bleed from the shinobi and floated off into the air, carrying the message back towards Kyoto.

“We will fall back,” Suzu said, gesturing to the other shinobi that had traveled with him to this particular area. “Our 'sponsors' will be busy enough when the plan is enacted and with the chaos, no one will stop us. There is revenge to be had, and my master and I will not be denied it.”

“Yes, sir,” the other shinobi answered, and one by one, they disappeared, blending in with the foliage as they made their way back to Kyoto.

Suzu was the last to follow, but he paused and took a look back as he saw the girl with the braided long hair, clearly a shinobi, though not well trained from what the battle had shown, send up a pigeon in the air. He or one of the shinobi under his command would have to kill that pigeon before it reached Kyoto. The boy that had tried to participate in the fight but failed miserably was of no threat. He knew that he still had to stop Himura Battousai from returning to Kyoto, for the defeat of both Shishio Makoto and Yukishirou Enishi, as told by his 'sponsors', clearly showed that Battousai was a threat.

The other man who had fought with Himura against the shadow was not familiar to him, but from the distance, where he was watching the four of them start towards the main road, he realized that the swordsman looked familiar. Though the face of the man was slightly aged and his hair shorter than it had been, the mannerisms of the unknown swordsman was still the same – this had been the source of Hijikata Toshizou's fear. There was an animalistic brutality in how the swordsman had fought, completely different than the pure power that the ex-hitokiri had displayed. As curious as Suzu was to the identity of this swordsman, he knew that this swordsman was also a threat.

Ambushing the group before they made it back to Kyoto would be the best way, but he knew that there were not enough men with him. He would have to summon more from Kyoto and have his men lay a trap for the Battousai and the unknown swordsman.

* * *

Aoshi could feel the hot summer sun beating down on his back as he sat near the bow of the medium-sized ferry that was docked in the river port that linked Kyoto to the river that would take it down to Osaka. This particular ship was undergoing repairs, but he had already paid off the captain to ensure that he had a perch here. This particular spot also gave him the best, unimpeded view of the various stores that dotted the port, with one in particular being the western cookware shop that he and Reika had scouted out a day ago.

With all that had happened, it felt almost like a lifetime ago that the exciting annual Gion Festival was almost upon them. Recent events had made that feel all like a dream, and with the increasing number of tourists that were pouring into the city, Aoshi silently wished that there was a way to cancel the festival without arousing suspicion (or protests) from anyone.

There was an increase in police presence in the city, but most were busy with keeping the peace and order, especially during the evening, when drinking dens were filled to capacity with revelers. Rumors of the children being murdered still flew far and wide, but so far, the poisoned well water story was still holding.

The pregnant woman who had been found in the middle of the night had been returned to her mother with condolences from the doctors and policemen saying that the woman suffered a falling accident, which killed her and the child she was carrying. Nothing was mentioned about a poisoned water supply, and as far as Aoshi knew, everyone around that area had accepted the story. Still, it did not bring the investigative team any closer to capturing the elusive culprit or culprits, and if there was anything to go buy old man Okina's story about possible Fuuma clansmen summoners being involved, then Kyoto's police would be hard-pressed to catch them.

Since finding no evidence or clue to point him to where the possible shadow that had most likely poisoned the fetus inside the woman's body, Aoshi had taken to staking out the western store for the remainder of the early morning and until now. During the time that had passed, he had pretended to help with the repairs on the ship, in particular, the bow area, but he had not seen anyone suspicious enter or leave the store. He could also see no sign of the dried poisonous herb he had happened upon being carried in or out.

It was also during that time that he considered bringing in the Oniwabanshuu, but with Misao gone to find Ginte, and him not wanting to retake the title of _Okashira_ from her, he refrained from doing so. The resources of the Oniwabanshuu would be invaluable to the investigation, but he knew that in his heart, he wanted peace for his comrades and friends and did not want them to get involved in yet another mess. It was enough that Misao was already involved, and he knew that Misao had little to no memories of when she had been living in Tokyo for around the first five years of her life. Politics and a mad grab for power by the Fuuma clansmen had killed almost her entire family all those years ago, and Aoshi wanted to protect her from another potential conflict with the antagonistic shinobi clan.

He turned slightly as he felt a familiar presence approach and walk up the ramp to the ship. Glancing back, he gave a nod of acknowledgment as he saw the tall, but stocky-looking Kuroujou approach. Returning his gaze to the shore and in particular to the store, he felt Kuroujou sit down next to him. Though physically, Kuroujou reminded him of a former comrade, Shimada Kai, whom he had served with for his brief time as one of the four Shinsengumi's shinobi, personality wise, Shimada and Kuroujou were completely different. Whereas Shimada always seemed to have a boisterous and cheerful personality that made them laugh, Kuroujou was unusually quiet and contemplative. Of course, Kuroujou was not his real name either, but everyone, including Aoshi, had been calling him that for such a long time that no one remembered his real name.

That was the same for Shiroujou; everyone knew that Kuroujou and Shiroujou were inseparable, and throughout the years since, they had shortened their names to Kurou and Shirou. Personality wise, Shiroujou was nearly the same as Kuroujou, though Shiroujou tended to voice his opinion a lot more. When Aoshi and what was left of the Edo Oniwabanshuu had arrived in Kyoto, they had learned from Okina that the two had been the primary information runners from behind enemy lines and to pockets of resistance forces surrounding Kyoto. They had also been the ones who helped secure the last of the routes from Edo to Kyoto during the evacuation of Edo, and for that, Aoshi owed both of them a great debt.

That debt had never been paid yet, and for all that he had done, Aoshi wondered if he would ever get to repay everything he owed in this lifetime – from Edo's evacuation to the residents of the Aoiya accepting him back after what he had done to Okina and to the Oniwabanshuu name. To involve the Oniwabanshuu in this current investigation was to add more to the debt, but to not ask was to give up a valuable resource, but it also kept Misao from the horrible memories of her grandfather being killed and her being taken hostage. With Kuroujou's presence here, he knew that he no longer had that choice – the Oniwabanshuu were getting involved, and no person could stop them.

“You should go back to the Aoiya and rest, Aoshi,” Kuroujou said. “I will take over for a few hours.”

“Can I assume that Shirou has taken over Reika's duties for the remainder of the day?” he asked.

“Yes,” the stocky man said.

Aoshi knew that he could put up a fight if he wanted to about relinquishing his duties, but he also knew that his body would completely protest it. Shinobi were trained for long-term observations in the most uncomfortable of spaces and positions, but there were limits to what the human body could do. He had been running only on one short burst of rest that took no more than a quarter of an hour in the past few days, and lethargy was starting to catch up to him. It was starting to muddle his senses and in a fight, he knew that he would be quickly exhausted.

“Then the storefront is all yours,” he said, quietly getting up and handed the holystone he had been working with against the deck of the ship over to Kuroujou. As he disembarked, he heard the ship owner say a faint 'thank you' for all the work that he had done, polishing the bow deck area of the ship.

A warm meal at the Aoiya, along with his room were waiting for him, but only for a few hours. After sundown, he knew that he would have to resume his duties and rooftop patrols; that is if nothing happened between now and then.

* * *

Summer nighttime insects chirped and buzzed in the air as fireflies flew around, giving the area a faint but serene glow. That serenity was however, only present in the world, for there was turmoil roiling inside of Okita that was both mental and physical. Fortunately, the medicine that he carried calmed the shortness of breath he had felt and somewhat labored breathing down, but it could not cure the mental turmoil that still lingered within him.

Sadness tugged at his heart for the death of Hotaru, the young woman he remember from his days in the Shinsengumi. Back then, he had been unexpectedly surprised at the fact that she wanted to write to him, but knew that she would be wasting words on him. His own heart, even back then, had been in conflict, and he had pushed that conflict down to the depths so that he could concentrate on the necessary duties he had in the Shinsengumi. He was glad that she had found some peace in her life, but what had happened to her today was something that he wished never happened. It was too cruel of a fate for such a kind woman.

Since the disappearance of the strange creature that had taken on Himura's form from earlier times, Okita had managed to hold back the coughs he desperately wanted to expel, not only for the sake of his apprentice, but also for the others to not worry over him. Once they had arrived at the inn, he had excused himself and in the privacy of one of the inn's many outhouses, he had doubled over, letting the coughs wrack his body and seemingly pound his chest into exhaustion.

He had been extremely fortunate that the colossally strong punch he had received on his chest from the creature had not broken any ribs, but it had left an unsightly bruise. He had not coughed out any blood, but he could feel fluid rattling in his lungs. He wasn't sure if today's battle had rendered the medicine ineffective, but he eventually pulled himself out of the outhouse, take care to ensure that his appearance wasn't betraying his exhaustion or his condition. He was sure that Himura could see right through his act, but he did not want to worry the others – they need not know how close to defeat he had been, at the mercy of the creature.

Even if the medicine had been rendered ineffective, he still took it – there was a chance that his body, after reacting well to it, would accept it again and continue to hold back the disease – that was all he could hope for. He looked down at the slightly crumpled paper that had contained the ground up packet of medicine and the cup of warm water that had been completely drained. His apprentice knew that he took medication, but exactly what for, he had never told him, and it would stay that way. It was already enough that his apprentice had found out last year of his true name; he wanted Yukimura to concentrate on his own goals in life, not to worry over an instructor with failing health.

However, that was the least of the mental turmoil that swirled around Okita. A half-hour ago, Himura Kenshin had finished explaining everything that had been happening around Kyoto since the beginning, and Okita was worried. It seemed that every investigation that Saitou was involved in dealt with something that had enormous consequences, and this one was no small matter. He knew that there was a very good chance that Yukimura, even perhaps Misao, along with Tetsu's children could be caught up in the random poisonings, and despite wanting to turn back and stay in Tokyo, he knew that he couldn't. It was the same as last year's news about the defeat of Shishio Makoto – Yukimura was too much like his mother, headstrong and stubborn to a fault, and would go to Kyoto, no matter the danger.

He was not about to abandon his apprentice, and thus he had made that declaration to Himura earlier. This time, he would help defend the innocents in the new age, not as a member of the Shinsengumi, but as a swordsman who wanted to keep the peace.

“They're asleep, that they are,” the kind voice of Himura said as he looked up to see the red-headed swordsman approach. The swordsman took out his sakabatou and laid it on the floor as he sat cross-legged, on the left side of Okita, near a support post, leaning slightly against it.

Okita's own sword was lying on the floor on his left, in between the space between him and Himura. He gave the ex-hitokiri a faint smile as he said, “They must be tired from what happened today. I hope that they do not have nightmares.”

“I don't think they will, that I do not,” Himura said. “But trauma like that cannot be easily erased.”

“No,” he quietly agreed, “it cannot.”

“There's something that you will need to know, if we ever encounter something like that creature again,” Himura spoke up after a few moments of silence. “Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was never meant to be used by such as a person like myself. It is too powerful. Before Takani Megumi-sensei left for Aizu last year, she told me that in a few years, I will no longer be able to use it, even if I stopped using it now.”

“Thus you and I are the same in wielding our swords in a limited fashion, but for completely different reasons,” Okita finished. “I understand and I thank you for sharing it with me, Himura-san.” He was sure that they were going to encounter more opponents as they returned to Kyoto, but at least now he knew that there was a limit to which he could depend on Himura. Both of them would have to work more closely than they had at the waterfall island, if they wanted to survive this coming storm.

How circumstances had changed, and he couldn't help but wistfully look at his sword. It was still sharp, but in this day and age, with the exception of those creatures, it had never sunk its teeth into flesh. Though he did not know of the reason why Himura had taken a vow of no-killing, there were still tenants of bushido it honored. Though both of them had different philosophies that governed the usage of their swords, both of them still upheld their own sense of honor and justice.

He, Okita, was no longer Shinsengumi, but he still lived by the scriptures of the Shinsengumi – but that did not mean he was as merciless as Saitou. He had grown up in a samurai household, sought the freedom from the confines of what was expected of him by joining the Roshigumi, and had fought for what he believed in. Himura's goals were the same as his now – the preservation of life, and in this new era of peace that was threatened by shadow forces, perhaps there was a way to resolve this without taking unnecessary lives.

Okita resolved to himself that the next time human enemy forces attacked them, he would reverse his blade – not for deference to Himura, but for the new age of peace. However, for the shadow creature that had attacked, if another one showed up, he would show no mercy. The age of war no longer had a place in this new era.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A combination of a writer's block, plus real-life crashed upon me, which is why this chapter got written and posted late. On another note, I finally got around to watching RK's new Kyoto Arc (2-episode OAV). I absolutely love the battle between Shishio and Saitou. That also helped me kick the stupid writer's block.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA/Reminder: I don't own any characters except for my own created ones. They all belong to their respective owners and/or history. This is purely a historical fiction fanwork and no profit is being made from it.

**Chapter 9**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Tokio marveled at the energy that the young children had as she stood to the side and watched her friends, Saya and Kaoru, wrangle Saya's children around the Aoiya. In only two days, Kaoru had become friends with both her and Saya, and she was glad for that. In her opinion, it helped take the young woman's mind off of the fact that her husband was away from Kyoto and helping with the poisoning investigation.

Her own husband was currently following yet another lead on the outskirts of Kyoto. Last night was the first night in a while that he had returned from the police station and got at least a proper night's rest. As far as she could tell, since the discovery of the dead pregnant woman, there had been no incidents with the poisoning of children. But there had been no arrests made either.

Saya's husband, Tetsunosuke, had left earlier than usual to go to the ferry docks for some shipments of items, which was why Saya had asked for help from Tokio (who had arrived early in the morning to visit Kaoru) to get her children ready for temple-school. Kaoru had jumped in to volunteer, citing that she wanted to learn how to take care of little kids, and thus, the child-wrangling had begun.

“Kanako-chan! Toshirou-kun!” she called out, clapping her hands as she saw the children skid around a support pole.

“Coming, Fujita-san!” the children said and scrambled over to her, looking quite flushed, but still proper.

“How do you do it, Tokio-san?” Kaoru asked as she grinned and approached the now seemingly well-behaving children.

“It's a secret that you will eventually discover for yourself, Kaoru-san,” she said, crouching slightly and gave the children a pat on the head. She missed her sons, but she knew that they were growing up to be strong boys. For the sake of her husband and his work, she never complained, for she needed to be his steady rock and someone that he could depend on.

“Do you have children yourself, Tokio-san?” Kaoru asked.

“I do,” she said, nodding once and hoping that the young woman would not press the issue. She knew that both Saya and Kaoru did not know who her husband was, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was enough that she knew that Saya's husband did not get along with her husband, but the fact that Hajime also found Kaoru's husband's philosophy of non-killing to be extremely irritating, made her job all the much harder. She wanted them to know her as a woman independent of her husband's influence.

“Oh, I apologize, Tokio-san,” Kaoru said, turning a bit red in embarrassment. “I did not mean to pry.”

“Please don't worry, Kaoru-san,” she said, giving the younger woman a reassuring smile. “I do not mind. I just hope that in time, you too will discover the secret to wrangling children as I have had.”

It was then that Saya came up to them and gave them a grateful nod of her thanks as she took the children by their hands and led them out of the Aoiya. With waves of their pudgy hands, the children giggled as they said their goodbyes. For the day, the Aoiya would be silent except for the sounds of patrons in the restaurant, but come nightfall, when the children and Saya returned, the sounds of laughter and the pitter-patter of feet on the wooden floor would fill the area.

“So where do you feel like going today, Kaoru-san?” Tokio politely asked.

“I wanted to help the Aoiya, so they gave me a list of foodstuff they need,” she answered, drawing a small piece of paper that contained a list of ingredients out of the side of her kimono. “I'm hoping that you know some good places where I can get these?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, smiling. As both of them stepped out of the Aoiya and joined the traffic of people that had taken to wandering the streets of Kyoto on this fine morning, Tokio discreetly reached towards the obi of her kimono to ensure that the tanto that she carried was still secured. Hajime may have asked her to keep an eye on Himura Kaoru for the sake of the investigation, but Tokio carried the blade on her own will. If any person or creature sought to harm her friend, they were going to have to get past her first.

* * *

_A few hours later..._

 

“Fujita-san,” the officer said as Saitou exited the carriage. “Thank you for coming quickly. We've already sent word to the Aoiya for Shinomori-san.”

“Good,” Saitou said, the cigarette that was hanging from the side of his mouth moving slightly as he spoke. As the carriage that had bore him from the outskirts of the city pulled away, he noticed that a small crowd of people were starting to gather and that officers were doing their best to keep the rabble away. With the increase of people in Kyoto over the past few days, it was getting harder and harder for the police to keep curious tourists from stumbling into investigations. Saitou knew that he was not the only policeman to be complaining to the chief of Kyoto's police force about the rowdy, somewhat disruptive tourists.

Three pairs of feet were stuck out from underneath the straw mats that covered the bodies of the latest victims. Even from this distance, he could smell the stink of decay, but that did not stop him from approaching. He crouched and lifted the coverings, noting that these were children, but were in various stages of maturity into an adult. All three though, were street urchins, judging from the state of their patchy clothes. All of the other victims were from families that were neither wealthy or poor, but had enough to provide.

He filed the question as to why street urchins were targeted into the back of his mind as he noted that all three were lying in a haphazard fashion that seemed too random; as if they had collided with each other. All three victims also had the tell-tale sign of blue-black lips, but even in the beginning stages of decay, there were too many flies buzzing around their bodies. No other child who had been killed had so many flies around their body.

“Saitou,” he heard the distinct footsteps of Shinomori approach as he let the covering back down and turned slightly from his crouch to see the former _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu approach, dressed in non-descript clothes that were made for blending in with crowds. “Takahashi and Yamazaki have been informed, but they are currently mixing several herbal medications for the patients.”

And that was another problem within the investigation – the initial stop-gap measure devised by Yamazaki had worked, but the patients were not getter any better than they initially had. Most of the children now had bouts of uncontrollable muscular spasms as an aftereffect of the poison, and as long as they dosed up on the stop-gap several times a day, they could control the spasms. Nothing that Yamazaki and other doctors working with their local patients had tried so far was a cure. He hoped that whatever herbs that Himura Battousai and Weasel Girl were bringing back from this 'Ginte' would be a cure.

The greatest obstacle he had, besides the lack of arrest made, was that Shinomori had informed him earlier about the potential that the cache of poison in the shop. As much as he wanted to take a group of officers and raid the shop, he could not – at least not without international repercussions. To have Japanese forces raid a simple western cook shop on evidence that was not solid enough was a blow to the integrity and delicate balance between Japan's hunger for all things modern and western and their own national security. That was a line that Saitou knew he would never cross unless he was absolutely sure that the western cookware shop was smuggling in the poison.

On a rainy summer day, just before the Gion Festival in1864, it was only because of the carelessness of the men who lived above Masuya's shop that the Shinsengumi got their big break in their investigation. That big break culminated into the bloody affair at Ikedaya.

Now though, Saitou was not a fool to know that they did not have the time to wait for a mistake to be made at the western shop. His 'big break' would never come just by simple observations of the shop. He knew that the fastest way was to send in Shinomori and possibly Takahashi – and if either of the two were caught, then he could easily deny having either of them on the investigative team. But, that also meant that he would lose a very valuable resource in the information network of Kyoto – the Oniwabanshuu. With Kyoto's spymaster and her team occupied in the national investigation's information exchange, the Oniwbanshuu was the network he depended on. Thus, as many of the western men he had met before said, he 'needed to play his cards' right.

“There's too many flies,” Shinomori commented as Saitou returned his attention to the bodies lying on the ground. He watched as Shinomori picked up one of the straw coverings and moved the body slightly. He saw a frown appear on Shinomori's face and a moment later, Shinomori gave a more forceful tug on the dead child's body, causing a massive amount of flies to be displaced.

Both he and the Oniwabanshuu patiently waited until the angry swarm settled down before Shinomori said, “The boy is too light.”

Saitou's frown got even deeper as he glanced down at the body that had been displaced, but could see nothing physically wrong. While he wasn't a religious man, he usually did not disturb the dead unless it was to move them for burial, rifling for enemy information, or examination. Since the first two deaths of the children, he had not felt the need to disturb any of the bodies except for the dead pregnant woman. However, Shinomori was a part of this investigation, so he took the man's opinions with weight.

Bracing himself slightly in his crouch, he tugged at one of the other children's bodies, and found himself surprised as the body gave way quite easily...a little too easily. The child he had moved slightly was just as scrawny-looking and tall as his adopted son, Eiji. He knew the weight of Eiji, having picked the boy up by the scruff of his neck and booted him into the police carriage during their journey back to Tokyo last year. This child he had moved weighed almost less than half of the weight he had expected.

Throwing off all the straw coverings, he didn't wait until the second angry swarm of flies to die down as he quickly ripped open one of the children's clothing. What he saw partially surprised him, but he quickly realized that he almost expected it to happen. Covering the body of the child he had examined was several gaping holes, with no blood draining from the wounds that looked to be made from several small throwing knives. The wounds had been cleaned, and he looked around the ground – there was nothing – someone had cleaned up the crime scene before the police got here. He brushed a gloved finger across the upper lip of one of the child – a blue-black liquid coating easily came off of the lips. The blue-black color on the lips was fake. These children had not been poisoned; they had bled to death.

“Fuuma,” Shinomori said, pointing to one of the wounds, and upon closer inspection, Saitou noticed that the wound had been thrown directly at a pressure point and that the edges of the wound had a slight imprint of several tiny teeth. “The Fuuma clan use ten-pointed throwing stars,” Shinomori continued. “Yamazaki said that he encountered a few kunoichi who used the stars before Ikedaya.”

“But why go through all of that trouble,” he muttered to himself.

However, he never got to finish that thought as the ground suddenly rocked with immense violence that was swiftly followed by the sounds of an enormous explosion only a few blocks away.

Saitou was not the only one to slam into the ground with a jarring thud. Almost all the other officers in the area, and civilians that had been looking at the crime scene fell. There was a slight ringing in his ears as he shook his head to clear his senses. He felt a wave of heat blow by from the explosion and knew that there was only one place that could go up in such a spectacular fashion: the main Kyoto police station. It was the only place where they kept most of the gunpowder for rifles and pistols, used only when extreme force was needed.

Quickly pushing himself back up as civilians started to run all over the place in a panic, he grabbed the nearest officer and calmly ordered, “Get the bodies to the nearest substation. Send word out to all substations that the main station is on fire and that we need as many fire brigades as possible. All men need to fall back and help with the evacuation of civilians from the area and rescue of survivors.”

“Yes, sir!”

Turning, he saw Shinomori picking himself off the floor, while bracing himself against the influx of civilians trying to get away from the rapidly billowing column of fire that surrounded the area where the main police station was. He needed not to say a word to the former _Okashira_ as both of them raced towards the inferno.

* * *

“Kaoru!”

Tokio managed to catch the stumbling young woman before she could fall to the ground as the earth beneath them shook with tremors. Had it been an earthquake? She looked around as Kaoru managed to get her balance and saw that she was not the only one who was wondering what had caused the ground to shake.

A gust of wind suddenly blew by, and with it, it brought the smell of...firewood? She felt an unease creep up into her stomach as Kaoru stepped away and said, “Thank you, Tokio-san--”

The young woman never got to finish her thanks as a crier appeared on the horizon of the street, screaming something at the top of his lungs. It took only a moment before she heard the crier shout, “It's on fire! The main police station is on fire! It's on fire! Run! The fire's headed this way! Run!”

_Hajime_!

The unease in Tokio's stomach turned into dread, for she knew that there was a slight chance that her husband, despite having left early in the morning for the outskirts, would be back at the main station, reviewing gathered observations. She managed to grab a hold of one of Kaoru's hands as the crowd slowly reacted to the crier's warnings and started to surge down the streets, trying to get away.

She pulled Kaoru as close to her as possible as she forced her way through to an alleyway where the narrow buildings provided them a brief shelter against the mob. She was worried, but she knew that she still had to protect Kaoru, and she wasn't about to abandon her duty. However, if she could--

“Your husband is a policeman, is he not, Tokio-san?”

Tokio turned from watching the crowd surge by, startled at the young woman's question and realized that there was a conviction in Kaoru's eyes that told her that she could not lie. She had never mentioned what her husband did and that only he worked the entire day. She silently nodded in confirmation to Kaoru's guess.

“You're the policeman, Fujita Gorou's wife, aren't you?” Kaoru continued to ask, but did not give Tokio a chance to answer as she plunged on, saying, “Fujita Gorou is Saitou Hajime's alias in this new era, which therefore, actually makes you Saitou Tokio.”

“Yes,” she answered after a moment, afraid that the young woman would recklessly run away in fear. “It does.”

“Then how do we get to the police station to rescue your husband, Tokio-san?”

It took Tokio a moment to process what Kaoru had said, and in that moment, she didn't realize that she had let go of Kaoru's hand until Kaoru picked her hand back up and held it up.

“Your husband and mine may never see eye to eye,” Kaoru said, “but that doesn't mean that _we_ still can't be friends. Right now, he and the rest of the police force are trying their hardest to protect Kyoto and solve this poisoning problem. They're the ones who know what's happening and who may be the culprit, so its our turn to make sure that they make it out alive from the fire.”

Relief flooded her as she realized that Kaoru was willing to come with her to try to save her husband. She could still do her duty in the protection of the young woman. She gave a nod and said, “We need to go this way to bypass the civilians...”

* * *

Susumu braced himself against the small table in the shop as the ground shook. Ceramic and glass jars rattled around their housing on the shelves, but thankfully, none fell as the tremors quickly stopped. “That wasn't an earthquake,” he stated as he and Reika got up at the same time and started to push the various jars back into their place in the little herbal shop. “Too shallow.”

Unfortunately, the amount of a particular herb that Reika had poured into the small scale just a moment ago had spilled out, but both of them didn't pay attention to that as their sensitive hearing picked up on several muffled shouts and screams from people outside of the shop. The two of them poked their heads outside to see that both tourists and natives of Kyoto had bewildered looks, wondering what had just happened. Several of them were also saying that what they had felt didn't feel like an earthquake.

“Fire!” someone shouted and a moment later, Susumu saw a man running down the streets. “Get the fire brigade! Fire at the main police station!”

He immediately dashed inside and grabbed the medical bag that was sitting to the side. Reika had done the same, except to take a small tray filled with various herbal medication with her. Together, both of them ran as fast as they could towards the destruction, determined to save as many lives as they could.

* * *

Tetsu was not the only one to run outside to see what had happened and what had possibly caused the strange rumbling in the ground. There was a breeze blowing and with it, it carried the smell of smoke. Something was on fire, but he could not see anything except a cloud of dark smoke that looked like it was coming from far away.

“Is the wind going to carry whatever is on fire here?” he heard one person ask.

“Don't know,” another replied.

“Hey, maybe we should get some buckets of water ready,” he suggested as he took another look at the dark smoke, which seemed to have gotten bigger. The smell of burning firewood was also getting a lot stronger and it worried him. With his shop and other residents living near the docks, if whatever was on fire could not be contained, then it would rapidly spread towards the docks, carried by the wind.

“The main police station is on fire!” a crier shouted running down the street.

Tetsu felt like someone punched his gut as he sucked in a breath. Susumu had said that he was headed to the station after sorting out a few herbs with Reika before he would return to continue to attend to the families whose children had been poisoned around here. However, he kept his calm and as the murmurs of the concerned citizens and tourists meandering about rose in volume, he shouted, “Get buckets of water ready. We don't know if the fire brigades will be able to contain the fire. I need people with me to be on the lookout for any signs.”

As the residents of the area snapped to action, glad that someone had stepped up, a few children ran up to him and he gave them simple orders to climb to the rooftops and watch for the fire. It was then that he finally broke into a run on the streets and headed towards the police station.

_Don't you be dead, Susumu._

* * *

Over at the Aoiya, there was a sense of calm that was almost eerie as Kashiwazaki Nenji poked his head out of the entrance to the Aoiya and sniffed the air. A crier had ran by only a few minutes ago, shouting that the main police station had exploded and was on fire. Shiroujou had reported from his patrol that the winds were picking up and could potentially carry the fire towards the train station and the docks. Kuroujou had not yet returned from his patrol, but Okina was sure that the news would be the same.

He was worried, and it was not only for Aoshi's sake, for he did not know where Aoshi was in the city, but also for Misao's aunt, Matsumoto Aya. There was a chance that Aoshi was not at the main station, but there was a very good chance that Aya had been caught in the explosion, since she was Kyoto's spymaster. However, he knew that he could not worry over one person, for there were many other officers and civilians that must've been caught in the blast.

“Shirou,” he said as he ducked back in, “start helping me move the furniture. We need to make as much space as possible for the injured. Masukami, get to the station and start directing the injured towards here. Oumime, go to the other stores and inns in the area and have them start clearing out at least the first floor too. There will be a lot of injured policemen and civilians by the day's end and they'll all need shelter.”

“Yes, Okina,” the three replied at the same time.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

 

Okita closely watched as his apprentice aimlessly kicked a piece of rock down the road, the only sound besides the chirping birds and noisy insects that filled the silence. It was a perfectly sunny day, and even though they were walking as much as they could in the shade, none of them felt like talking. The four of them had woken up early and left the roadside inn after a tepid morning meal, and now with the forests thinning, he knew that they were close to the outskirts of Kyoto.

Though a gamut of emotions ran through him as Kyoto got closer, a sense of failure hung over not only him, but everyone else. Himura's explanation of what exactly was going on in Kyoto had him worried, for it seemed that Dr. Yamazaki was hoping that whatever rare herbs Ginte had, would be the key to a cure. They were walking back to Kyoto empty handed, and though Misao had sent the pigeon yesterday with the news, they had not heard anything otherwise.

A noise of discontentment escaped the lips of his apprentice and he could only watch with as much patience as he could muster. He understood how helpless his apprentice felt during the fight against both the creature that possessed Himura's likeness and the enemy shinobi. Yukimura had not yet developed a strong _ken-ki_ yet, and thus that contributed to him being completely immobile during the fight. The immobilization of his apprentice also contributed to the worry within him – if or rather when they were attacked again, for he was sure that there would be another one, Yukimura would be the most vulnerable of the four of them.

He had briefly talked to his apprentice before they had started down the road this morning, but even then, the spirits of his apprentice could not be fully lifted. Yukimura was learning the derivation of Tennen Rishin Ryu quite fast, but his body had yet to catch up in terms of strength. Okita knew that the next time, he would have to keep his apprentice close enough to protect him if need be.

Okita looked up as the four of them rounded a large bend that sloped down a slightly steep incline. A number of people who were traveling on the road had suddenly halted, with most turning back, scurrying away while murmuring in fear. What Okita saw did not surprise him and a quick glance over a Himura, who had a frown on his face, told him the same. Both of them had been expecting this.

Ten black-clad shinobi stood at the bottom of the hill in the middle of the road.

“Well,” he said, letting the bitter humor creep into his tone, “at least we know that they are willing to welcome us to Kyoto with open arms.”

“That they are,” he heard Himura say in a light tone.

However, neither Misao or Yukimura understood the ironic sense of humor both he and Himura possessed as the two glanced back, looking at the two of them as if they had grown many heads.

“I think a proper greeting is necessary, though I had expected more to show up,” he said, taking a few steps forward and passed the young woman and his apprentice, before Himura started walking too. With his hand at the edge of the scabbard that held his blade, thumb poised ready to push out the blade for a quick draw, he heard Misao and Yukimura fall in behind while drawing their own weapons. He could feel Himura's _ken-ki_ grow and matched the strength of it with his own. From Misao, he could feel her wavering slightly, but there was a determined spirit about her. It was the same with Yukimura.

They could see all ten shinobi clear in the day, but none of them could _feel_ them. It was a well-versed trick he knew from experience that shinobi had employed numerous times to throw off swordsmen. Visual was the only way to ensure that attacks could be defended from, but he also hoped that the combined _ken-ki_ from both he and Himura would cause some of the shinobi to waver, especially when the fight started.

Half-way down the slope, both he and Himura paused as they heard the scrape of pebbles on the sandy road. “You should be careful of asking for more to show up next time, Okita-dono,” Himura said as both of them glanced back.

Ten more shinobi had 'ambushed' them from behind.

“I shall take that under consideration, Himura-san,” he answered as he felt and heard Himura slip to the back, wedging Misao and Yukimura between them to cover the left and right sides respectively. The twenty shinobi slowly circled around him, and even though they were all wearing the same black uniform, they all carried different weapons.

Small scythes, long blades, short blades, throwing knives...a variety of sharp blades and sharp ends that were meant for one purpose only – to kill their target. There was a soft _clink_ as his thumb flicked against the guard of his blade, pushing it slightly out of the scabbard. Though he was not as quick of a draw as Himura, he knew that he was still fast. There was the same sound from behind as he heard Himura do the same. Neither of them knew how the shinobi would attack, and therefore, the most defensive position they could take was the simplest of forms in battoujutsu.

A late afternoon's summer breeze blew by, ruffling clothes and hair, but no one moved until a snap of a leaf in the air signaled the beginning of the fight.

A roar escaped Okita's lips as his right hand snatched up the hilt of his blade, drew it out of the scabbard, reversed the edge, and sliced downwards into the face of the first shinobi who had charged straight at him. Wasting no time as the shinobi fell down, unconscious, he rammed an elbow into the face of another before clocking the shinobi with his spinning momentum and the flat of his blade.

Flecks of metal entered his vision as he raised his sword up and with quick wrist-work, blocked all six throwing knives, flipping the sword yet again to swipe the dull end blade from navel to throat of another shinobi. That shinobi flew backwards, crashing into a couple of others as he heard the grunts of his apprentice and the distinct sound of wood smashing into flesh. However, he could not keep his entire attention on his apprentice as another shinobi dove in with a flying kick, forcing him to the side with arms up to protect his head.

Lashing out with his left hand, he managed to connect his fist with cloth, but it did little to drive the shinobi back as another ganged up on him, forcing him to bring his blade up to meet the curved scythe that would have gouged an eye out. He hissed in pain as another punch from the fist-fighting shinobi connected with his left side, but he dared not to shift his weight as the scythe-wielding shinobi pressed against him, trying to drive him into the ground.

Dust and sand was kicked up by the first shinobi, but a meaty _clunk_ whistled past his left ear and the pressure from the first shinobi was gone as out of the corner of his watering eyes, he saw Misao fly by, trying to drive back another shinobi with her throwing knives in her hands. Freed, he raised his left hand back to the hilt of his blade and pushed with all of his strength while lowering the center of his balance. Unbalanced, the scythe-wielding shinobi toppled slightly back, but Okita was quicker and stepped in for a quick, but powerful diagonal strike.

Another jumped in place of the one that had just fallen, but he kept up the pressing attack, felling one after another. However, he dared not to take too many steps forward and kept himself within two or three steps of either his apprentice or Misao. He could feel Himura do the same, but even as shinobi littered the circle they were trapped in, there seemed to be no end.

He could feel himself breathe heavily, but his battle-honed senses were still alert as he continued to drive back the endless amount of shinobi while dodging their blades. He was aware though that his apprentice was faltering quickly under the onslaught. With Misao and Yukimura trapped in the circle, there was no way he could attempt to unleash _Sandanzuki_ or any of the more advance forms of Tennen Rishin Ryu, for it required space to move around.

As if sensing the same problem as he did, he saw a sudden flash of red hair breeze past that was swiftly followed by a nine-point strike that sent several shinobi ahead of him flying backwards. It opened up a gap and he turned to grab his apprentice by the scruff of his uwagi, throwing him with all of his might into the gap. The boy stumbled as he landed, but thankfully, ran as quickly as he could to clear the area.

“Go!” he heard Himura shout as Misao followed her cousin.

Okita quickly pulled himself back and charged in with _Hiraseigan_ , but it was too late as the gap between the shinobi closed and he managed to wound the closest one in the arm with the sharp tip of his sword. Yanking his sword back out, he could hear the shouts of his apprentice, but none of the enemy shinobi surrounding both him and Himura were paying attention to the younger ones.

_Ah, so they are only after Himura and I_ , he thought to himself as a wolfish grin made its way up to his lips. As he stood back-to-back against Himura, refusing to let exhaustion take over his body, he said, “At least we have some more room, Himura-san.”

“Yes,” Himura agreed, breathing quite hard, “that we do.”

“That nine-point strike you did,” he asked as he warily watched the shinobi, waiting for them to telegraph their strikes, “what is it called?”

“Kuzuryuusen.”

“I wish I had something like that, Himura-san,” he said, allowing the grim smile to remain on his face as he surveyed the numbers left. “I only managed to develop Sandanzuki. It is the fastest strike I can do, but it works best against a singular opponent.”

“I remember you using that against me,” Himura said. “It's very strong, that it is.”

“Thank you, Himura-san.”

“They're waiting for us,” Himura quietly said after a moment's pause.

He silently nodded to the ex-hitokiri's words, knowing that the 'they' meant not only Misao and Yuki, but everyone else in Kyoto. Even though they did not have the herbs for the poisoned children, they still had information to contribute to the investigation. It was that and the thought of possible reconciliation between him and Yukimura's mother that gave Okita a renewed sense of strength and energy. He was not going to die here – he still had many things to do in this extended life.

“Then we should not keep them waiting.”

Both of their _ken-ki_ increased almost ten-fold as their _ki-ai_ filled the air. Charging in, the two worked in tandem, covering each other. When one would strike from above, the other struck from below. Where one was briefly exposed to an attack, the other dashed in with a blade to cover, and together, the two quickly fell shinobi after shinobi. As talented and as deadly the Fuuma clansmen were, they could not keep up with the onslaught of two highly-skilled swordsmen. However, they did not retreat and each of them fought to the bitter end.

When the last of the shinobi fell to the ground, dazed and confused, there were fifty dark-clothed bodies littering the sloping road. All were unconscious and though some were wounded, none of them were dying. Okita stood a little ways away from Himura, sword still held out at a guard stance, but with the tip pointed to the ground as he surveyed the area. Satisfied that every enemy shinobi was not going to wake up anytime soon, he gave his blade a flick and sheathed it.

The _chink_ of Himura's blade being sheathed was also heard as he turned slightly to see his apprentice and Misao gaping at them. An amused smile worked its way up to his lips and he couldn't help but laugh. To him, there was nothing special about what had just happened, except that instead of fighting in tandem with Saitou as he had done during his time in the Shinsengumi whenever the First and Third Units were teamed up, he had done tandem-fighting with Himura.

“You reversed your blade,” Himura stated.

“It is enough that I am breaking the law by carrying a sword without special permission. I did not want to further break the law by leaving a trail of dead bodies,” he explained, not wanting to indulge Himura in the real reason for the reversal of his blade.

Himura was silent for a long moment before saying, “Onwards to Kyoto, then?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “As you said before, they are waiting for us, Himura-san.”

Stepping carefully out of the field of unconscious shinobi, the two of them rejoined Misao and Yukimura. Giving a reassuring pat on the shoulder of his apprentice, Okita steered the boy towards the direction of Kyoto and began to walk. He knew that eventually, his apprentice would get over the shock, and would start peppering him with questions, but for now, he was content to let what had just happened to sink in. With lots of practice and raw skill that he knew Yukimura possessed, he knew that his apprentice would eventually be able to do fight multiple enemies like he had done just now. All his apprentice needed to master first was his patience.

As the group resumed their walk, Okita could feel his energy starting to drain as adrenaline started to die down. He was tired from the skirmish, but it did not feel as bad as the day before. The urge to stop and cough though, was still there, but he held it back as best as he could. When they got to Kyoto, he hoped that Dr. Yamazaki could spare a moment to take a look at him and let him know if his disease was progressing again.

“Are you fine, sensei?” Yukimura suddenly asked.

Startled, he looked over and down and gave his apprentice a reassuring smile. “Yes. I am fine.”

The four of them continued their way down the road that was starting to get more hilly with the slope variation between up or down. Eventually, after a few twists and turns, the trees finally thinned out and at the crest of a hill was a plateau that afforded travelers a majestic overlook into the city.

Okita found himself frowning, the good mood completely spoiled as a crowd of people were gathered at overlook. Concerned murmurs floated across his ears as he gently pushed his way through the crowds to see what had caught many a travelers' attention. The others had done the same and when he emerged to the front, he heard a squeak that sounded more like a cry of alarm from Misao. He would have voiced the same cry, except that all breath left him as he stared in shock at what was sprawled before him in the valley that cradled the ancient city.

A large portion of Kyoto was on fire. With the dry, southerly winds, the inferno had already engulfed many houses and was quickly spreading towards the ferry docks.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep...all characters are converging again on Kyoto... Now, for those of you wanting a Kenshin-Saitou-Okita roulette battle...it may be coming (not in the next few chapters though) in the future.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Past: Early Spring, 1866_

 

Kenshin patiently sat in seiza with his eyes half-closed in meditation. He had only returned to the inn, located in a fairly affluent village that was between Osaka and Kyoto, a half-hour before. Others, besides his employer, Katsura Kogoro, lived in this inn, but they all had one common affiliation: the Ishinshishi. Most of the other men were compatriots of Katsura, but they generally left him, Kenshin, alone whenever he was about. He did not mind it and in fact, he was grateful for it, for his grief was still too strong and too raw for him to process in a manner that was conducive to even sitting in the same room as anyone else.

Tomoe's face kept lingering in his mind whenever he tried to meditate or sleep, and it was not just her smiling face that he saw. The image of her, showered in her own blood from the fatal wound that he had caused, falling into him, kept him awake for endless amounts of night. He could still feel the weight of her body crashing into him on that cold, snowy day--

“Ah, Himura-san,” Katsura's voice snapped him out of his memories as the partition to the room was slid open. He opened his eyes and looked up to see his employer walk in with a kind and gentle smile on his face.

“Katsura-san,” he greeted quite curtly, but did not stand up as his employer slid the partition close, came over, and took a seat opposite of him.

“The men expressed their thanks for the help tonight,” Katsura said. “I heard some of the details of what happened in the streets after Daidouji-kun and the others with him were discovered, especially concerning the Shinsengumi, but I'd also like to hear it from your side.”

“It was as you said, Katsura-san. After Daidouji and his group were discovered, the Shinsengumi swarmed the area within minutes,” he began, but stopped as the partition slid open again, revealing a young man with shockingly pale hair, wearing a dark uwagi and light-colored hakama. There was a blood-red scabbard on his side that contained a katana wrapped with a white-gold hilt.

“Please don't mind the interruption, Himura-san,” Katsura said, waving the young man in. “I don't believe that I have introduced you to my page, have I?”

Kenshin remained silent as he saw that the young page carried a tray that contained two steaming mugs of tea. As the page entered, he heard the page say in a husky voice, “Here are the teas, Katsura-sensei.”

“Thank you,” Katsura replied, politely accepting the mugs and handed one over to Kenshin who took it and took a small sip before letting it sit in his lap. He was not thirsty, but it was still polite of him to take a small sip of the tea to not offend his employer. “Please stay for a moment,” Katsura told his page. Turning to Kenshin, Katsura gestured to the young page, saying, “This is Kitamura Suzu. His previous master was Yoshida Toshimaro. Before I fled Kyoto, I had found him wandering about and took him in. I believe that he is about the same age as you, Himura-san.”

Kenshin nodded, but did not understand why his employer was telling him this. However, he remained silent until the silence was a little too awkward. Katsura gave a cough before saying, “I hope that whenever I am not here and Kitamura-kun is sent as a representative in my stead, that you will be able to talk to him as you have done whenever we talked. I also hope--”

“Katsura-sensei!”

The partition opened to reveal the slightly harried face of one of the men that frequented the inn. Kenshin was instantly on guard, his left hand flying to his scabbard, poised and ready to draw. He saw that Kitamura had done the same, but with an eerily calm look on his face.

“Katsura-sensei, Daidouji...he committed seppuku!”

“What?!” Kenshin heard Katsura hiss as the man got up. Kenshin relaxed his guard, as Katsura turned slightly and said, “Himura-san, I will return shortly. Please take this time to get to know each other better.”

Silence descended upon the room as soon as Katsura left and for a long moment, neither said anything to each other. Though he obeyed every order that his employer had given so far, Kenshin was not feeling like making a friend or an acquaintance out of Kitamura Suzu. There was a haunted look in the young man's eyes that did not sit well with him, but if his employer noticed, Katsura had not indicated anything of the sort. If Kitamura was going to be the one that Kenshin reported to whenever a mission was completed, then that was all Kitamura would be to him – a messenger.

“Pardon me, Himura-san,” Kitamura broke the silence first, stammering slightly. “I couldn't help but hear that you had encountered Shinsengumi tonight.”

“I did,” he answered, but did not elaborate.

“Did...did you happen to fight against one that has a similar kind of hair-color like yours?”

The question sounded quite timid, but Kenshin frowned slightly as he saw that though the expression on Kitamura's face was a perfect one that belayed spinelessness, the eyes of Kitamura were contained an inexplicably hard look. “No, I did not,” he answered after a moment, puzzled.

“For the future,” Kitamura said, casting his eyes which ever way possible, as if nervous about something. “If you do, please let me know.”

“Why?” he asked.

He never got his answer as the partition slid open again and Katsura walked back in. Kenshin waited until his employer had taken a seat and taking a sip of his tea before casting a look at Kitamura. As if sensing his expectation that Kitamura should now leave, Katsura put the mug down and said, “If you will pardon this, but I also need to train my page to listen carefully. I would like him to stay and listen to your report.”

“Fine,” he said. There was no need for him to ask his employer about Daidouji's suicide, for that was not his concern. He continued his report, saying, “After Daidouji and his group were discovered, the Shinsengumi swarmed the place within minutes. Daidouji and a couple of the men were forced to run towards the eastern part of the city. I was separated from them, but managed to lead the others out of the city. I then turned back and followed the sounds of the Miburo on their hunt and managed to intercept Daidouji and the others before they were all killed.

“Unfortunately, he and the others were being pursued by two shinobi and both the First and Third Units. I placed myself in between them and the Shinsengumi. Okita Souji of the First Unit accepted my challenge. We were evenly matched until he faltered and withdrew. Saitou Hajime of the Third Unit stepped in to finish the challenge. We fought to a draw and they decided not to pursue us.”

“I see,” Katsura said after a few minutes of contemplative silence. “We're very fortunate that you managed to fight against two captains of the Shinsengumi and survived. What are you opinions on their skills, Himura-san?”

“The Third Unit Captain is a very strong opponent, and him being a left-handed swordsman was supposed to make his attacks unpredictable. However, he favors utilizing Gatotsu quite a bit, and therefore, it makes his attacks more predictable,” he stated. “If given another encounter or two, I will be able to easily find ways to dodge it. As for the First Unit Captain, I believe that he may have tuberculosis, because that is the only illness that I had seen when I was peddling medicine that could fell even the strongest of warriors.”

“Ah, so he is in a similar state like Takasugi-san.”

Kenshin nodded, but continued to say, “That may be so, but he is still a dangerous man. Had he not been overtaken by coughing fits, I believe that he might have beaten me or at least, given me another scar.”

“Oh?” Katsura said, surprised.

“I read about what forms Tennen Rishin Ryu consists of, and during tonight's encounter, he unleashed something completely different than what I had read about. It was a three-point strike, designed to kill or at the very least, completely disable a swordsman in three vital areas.” He gestured to the three areas where the strike should have hit, had he not brought up his sword in time to block it. “I don't know what that attack was.”

He saw his employer frown before saying, “I heard rumors of a technique that the First Unit Captain had developed on his own, but I never recieved a good description of it. I wonder if what you've describe is what its name is...Sandanzuki.”

Kenshin shrugged, but he filed it away into the back of his mind. If he ever encountered Okita Souji again, at least he would have a possible name to the unknown attack and thus be able to look for it. “That is all that I have to report, sir.”

“Good, and thank you again for your work tonight.”

Kenshin silently watched as his employer and the young page got up and left. Outwardly as he watched the page disappear through the threshold and close the partition, there seemed to be nothing wrong the Kitamura, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy around him. He didn't think the page was a threat to Katsura, but after all that Katsura had done for him...for Tomoe...and their life together, he owed it to his employer to look out for him, at least until the new age was finally settled.

He knew that eventually, his own curiosity about what Kitamura had mentioned about a 'red-haired warrior' within the Shinsengumi would drive him to ask the reason why Kitamura pursued this, but for now, the only red he could see was the blood of his wife, splattered over the pristine white snow.

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

“Take her to the Aoiya!”

Susumu wiped an arm over his forehead, hoping to clear away at least some of the sweat dripping down as he crouched next to another person on a stretcher and began yet another examination of the civilian's wounds. There was not enough light, for either the flames were casting shadows everywhere or the thick, dark smoke was obscuring what little sunlight could get through. Everything he had to assess was by touch, and from the wetness he felt through the civilian's clothes, too much blood had already been lost.

“Okaasan!”

Startled by the voice, Susumu looked up to see Yukimura tear away from three other people, two of them he did not expect to be traveling with the young boy and his master. The boy was running towards the stretcher that had just left, bearing his unconscious and wounded mother, and Susumu knew that he could not have the boy interfere. He intercepted Yuki, grabbing him by the shoulders and spun him around to face him. Before the boy could protest, he said in a harsh tone, “Leave her be. She'll be fine. I need your help.”

“But--”

“Look at me, Yuki!” he said, nearly shouting his words. “Look at me,” he repeated in a softer tone. “There are others that need medical attention. You know what to do. They need your help.” When the boy had been sent up to Tokyo by his mother almost two-and-a-half years ago, Susumu had taken the boy in and allowed him to help with the running of his clinic while the boy looked for a dojo to study from. He needed to keep Yuki's mind off of his mother, for all the boy would do while at the Aoiya was to just worry over her. There were other doctors trying to help the victims, but there were not enough of them to go around. Yuki's knowledge would help save more lives.

“Susumu!”

He glanced back to see of all people, Tetsu running up, out of breath, but ready to help. He knew that he could also use his best friend's help with the patients, but with the wind blowing in a southerly direction and the fire brigades trying their best to put out the blaze, he knew that he couldn't ask. There were people living near the docks, and Tetsu's rapport with the people there was needed.

“Get back to the docks and start evacuating them, you idiot!” he shouted to his friend.

“Ichimura, go!” he heard Saitou second that order, before sending two policemen towards Tetsu.

There was a split-second hesitation in Tetsu's eyes, but Susumu had already turned back and refocused his attention on Yuki. “I need your help,” he repeated.

“All right,” the boy said and Susumu let him go and watched as he ran towards one of the patients on a stretcher.

Even with all the chaos and people running about, Susumu managed to see that the other three that Yuki had arrived with started helping out with trying to get people away from burning buildings and towards safety. He hurried back to the civilian that he had been trying to save. Fortunately, another doctor had gotten to him and it looked like the man was being taken to one of the other inns that was being set up as a triage.

He stepped over, kneeling beside a policeman who had burns across his legs and was bleeding quite profusely from multiple wooden shrapnel that had embedded themselves all across his upper body. Susumu knew that there was nothing he could do for this man, but he tried anyways.

* * *

The gunpowder-induced fire burned for about two days before the last of it was put out by the fire brigades. Several hundreds of people had lost their homes, but compared to the Great Fire of Kyoto during the revolution, it was a godsend that more did not lose their lives or homes. It was because of a southwesterly wind that pushed the fire towards the train station and docks, both places considered more storefronts than residential areas. Unfortunately, the fire burned a path through both the train station and the docks, leaving the area in ruins.

Many lives were lost, but most of them had been those at the epicenter of the explosion, which was about a third of the police force that guarded Kyoto. They were fortunate not to lose more, since the rest of the force had been out patrolling and keeping the peace in the city with the upcoming festivals. However, in the third of the police that were lost, only two remained alive of the entire Kyoto police's clandestine division, and it was only because of pure luck.

One of the police spies, who had recovered sufficiently from his wounds, had left only a few hours ago by the fastest carriage, bearing documents that were eyes-only for the chief of Osaka's police force. Due to the sensitive nature of the documents, the officer was being escorted by five officers that could be spared from current duties.

The other police spy – Saitou flicked his eyes up from the documents he was currently pouring over to the second floor – was the spymaster, but only time would tell if she ever woke up. He looked back down and resumed reading, deeply inhaling the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth and breathing out just as deeply, releasing a cloud of smoke around him.

While it was near the time where most patrons would be enjoying a delightful evening meal at the Aoiya, it was virtually deserted of any paying patrons. Most of the wounded that had been transported to not only the Aoiya, but also elsewhere, had now been sequestered in private rooms at various inns. They were being cared for by doctors, but most anyone could do was wait and see if they would recover from their wounds. Saitou had immediately commandeered the restaurant portion of the Aoiya as a temporary headquarters for his investigation, since most of those participating in the investigation had already opened up rooms here. It also became the temporary headquarters of the Kyoto police as soon as the entire force had learned that both the police chief and the deputy chief had perished in the explosion.

That meant that Saitou was now in charge, since he was the highest ranking officer within the Kyoto police force to not be bedridden and recovering from wounds. He had done what he could, but with the telegraph lines in the police station to Tokyo and other cities gone, the train station in ruins, the docks and boats destroyed until they could be repaired, their only hope of getting help was to send riders to Osaka – hence him sending the police spy earlier in the day. The funeral for the police chief and deputy chief had been held the day before, with most of the force showing up to pay their respects. Unfortunately, they also had duties to attend to, especially with the reassurance of the natives and tourists, and therefore, could not linger on the deaths of their comrades for long.

There was also the matter of the investigation into the explosion. So far, all evidence that Saitou had seen on the table at the Aoiya that he had converted into his desk was pointing to an accident, but he suspected otherwise. It was commonly known that one of the inherent dangers of keeping rifles and a small gunpowder storage in a station was an explosion like what had happened, but the government had outweighed the risks with the benefits. After Saigo Takamori's rebellion, the government did not want another uprising and thus, ordered all main stations to stock a fair quantity of rifles and gunpowder – used only in extreme cases. Some cigarette that had not been squashed properly, or dryness, or even just a random lighting of an indoor oil lamp could have set off the explosion.

The ruins of the police station and the buildings surrounding it were still smoldering slightly, but Saitou had already ordered whoever he could to search among the ruins to see if there was anything suspicious. He also wanted to secure any sensitive documents that may not have burned, but that was unlikely. The only good to have come out of it was that since the discovery of the three street urchins, not one child had been poisoned or suspiciously killed.

However, where there was good news, there was also more bad news. The western cookware shop that he had Shinomori observe had been among the shops near the docks that burned down. All evidence that he was hoping to retrieve for the poisoning investigation was gone. Even with Himura Battousai, Weasel Girl, and the unexpected appearance of his old comrade, Okita, here, there had been so many things to take care of that Saitou had not yet gotten an update on the situation from them.

Today though, Saitou had called a meeting of the team, knowing that even though he had other things to take care of and a police force to run, he still had his duties to the families of the children who had been murdered. The least he could do was hopefully get information and set up a forward plan, for he was sure that even with a two-day reprieve, the Fuuma clan were not going to sit idly by.

The Oniwbanshuu certainly hadn't, for he hadn't seen a hide or hair of any of their members, except for Weasel Girl entering and exiting her aunt's room at the Aoiya. If there was a group that he knew that he could count on in protecting Kyoto when the city needed protection, it was the Oniwabanshuu. He had not asked them to, but he knew that they considered themselves guardians of the city, no matter who was in charge.

He felt a familiar presence as he heard footsteps descending from the second floor and looked up to see Okita making his way to the first floor. It was only because of Tokio's keen observations in the past couple of days that Saitou found out about the attempted reconciliation between Okita and the woman Okita supposedly loved last year. According to Tokio, the reconciliation had not worked out, but neither did it end up in a complete failure, hence Okita's presence in Kyoto now. Now though, with Okita's woman still unconscious from the explosion, it looked like a second attempt at reconciliation was all but impossible. But, Saitou knew that he did not have to worry about the younger man's mentality – Okita was quite capable of emotionally detaching himself from any situation...unlike Battousai who couldn't and in Saitou's mind, it had been proved with last year's debacle against Yukishirou Enishi.

There was a withdrawn look about his comrade's face, but he said nothing and merely gave a nod to the approaching man. He received the same nod in return as Okita passed him, and headed towards the gardens. It was not quite time yet for the meeting to start, but with what he read in the silent expression from the younger man, Okita did not carry good news for the meeting.

* * *

Misao anxiously waited as she watched Dr. Yamazaki take the pulse of her aunt, hoping for some glimmer of hope that she was going to wake soon. Beside her, fidgeting slightly was Yuki, but neither of them dared disturb the doctor. Yuki's master had left only moments ago, but had given his apprentice a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

To keep her mind off of not only her aunt, but also of the others who had perished in the fire, Misao had taken up patrols with the rest of the Oniwabanshuu. She was glad that Okina had taken the initiative well before she had returned, to watch the city. While she and Aoshi did not have the same routes, at the each end of their patrols, they had met up to just spend some time overlooking Kyoto from the highest point in the city. Aoshi had not told her of how the poisoning investigation was going, but she didn't mind – just as long as she could spend some quiet time with her love was good enough for her.

She had finished her patrol a few minutes ago and had entered the Aoiya via the secret rooftop entrance, knowing that there was time later that she would be able to spend alone with Aoshi. Saitou had called a meeting, and she wanted to check up on her aunt before attending the meeting. She didn't know if her cousin had moved from his place beside his mother since she had been gone, but she understood that Yuki's primary concern would be his mother – not whatever had happened in the past few days.

Misao knew of her cousin's ambition to become a police officer, but this was the first time he had truly seen what it took to become one, and she could tell that he was wavering in that conviction. It was a dangerous job, and she hoped that he would be able to find the courage to push past his fear and embrace his dreams. She thought that at least he was more mature in mind and spirit than that Myoujin Yahiko brat.

“No change,” Dr. Yamazaki said, putting her aunt's arm back down and tucked it beneath the blanket.

She heard a dejected sigh escape Yuki's lips and decided to sling an arm around him, pulling him close. “It's okay, Yuki,” she said. “She's strong and she'll wake up soon. The meeting's starting soon, so stay here and keep an eye on your mother. I'll let them know what happened.”

Yuki nodded and she looked up and over to see a solemn look on Dr. Yamazaki's face. With her wounds bandaged and healing, there was nothing else they could do for Matsumoto Aya right now, except to wait and see if she would wake up. Misao couldn't shake the feeling that her aunt had information they needed for the not only the poisoning investigation, but also what caused the explosion at the police station. There was also the question of why they had found a message from her to Ginte and his wife delivered on the day that they died that could only be answered by her.

* * *

With the sun dipping below the horizon, the light that spilled over the skies of Kyoto glowed yellow-red, giving the place an ethereal look. There were supposed to be fireworks tonight, but with the recent tragedy, all fireworks had been postponed until the end of the week. Kenshin sighed as he breathed in deeply, smelling the familiar scent of Kyoto that was mixed in with the faint aroma of burning wood that still lingered in the air. In the interim after helping rescue and transport injured civilians and officers to various areas, he had taken care to stay out of the police's way, but also helped the Oniwabanshuu in their patrols of the city.

“May I sit here, Himura-san?”

He looked over to see Okita standing near him and nodded for the former Shinsengumi to sit. A moment later, he heard Okita say, “Congratulations on the news with regards to your wife.”

“Thank you very much,” he politely replied, and though with all that had recently happened, he couldn't help but allow a small smile to appear on his face. As soon as there had been a brief reprieve from all the chaos, Kaoru had told him that she was expecting. He had been shock and delighted at the same time and had no words to say, which worried his wife for a moment before he had fiercely embraced her. A moment later, realization had struck him that his wife had helped out in the rescue of those caught in the explosion, but before he could express his concern for what she had done, she beat him to it and had told him that though she was pregnant, she was not disabled.

Her spirit and fire behind those words caught him off-guard and he was left in the middle of the Aoiya, quite baffled and speechless as she stomped off to go assist Dr. Yamazaki. All he could say to his wife's words was a sheepish 'oro'.

Now though, Kaoru was currently resting and though she knew of the meeting that Saitou had called, Kenshin had told her to rest for now and that he would inform her of the details later. He had no intention of involving his wife in whatever was going on, and if he could, he would keep her out of it as much as possible. He respected and loved his wife dearly, but this was not the same as dealing with Shishio Makoto. Whoever or whomever were behind this were more dangerous than Shishio or Enishi. He had almost lost Kaoru once, and he was not going to lose her again.

“How is your apprentice?” he asked. He had seen the panic in Okita's apprentice's eyes as soon as they had caught sight of people taking Kyoto's spymaster away on a stretcher.

“He sits by his mother's side,” Okita answered.

Neither of them spoke any further as both heard a scrabbling on the rooftop of the Aoiya and not a moment later, Aoshi, dressed in the dark-blue uniform of the Oniwabanshuu, landed softly in the garden. The former _Okashira_ 's eyes glittered with the reflecting sunset's light, and he gave a solemn nod to both swordsmen.

The sounds of yet another pair of footsteps was heard as the cultured voice of a woman said, “Ah, you're all here. If you would please follow me, the meeting is about to start.”

Three heads turned to the sound of the voice and though Kenshin had briefly seen the woman assisting the others during the rescue of those at the police station and surrounding buildings, he had thought that she was one of the many tourists who had stood their ground and not run from the fire. He had not seen her since, and now that she was here, he understood that she had something to do with the investigation – either into the fire or with the poisoning. Saitou was not the type to be careless whenever enlisting someone to help.

“Thank you for reminding us, Tokio-dono,”Okita said as he got up.

Kenshin was slightly slower to follow as the woman's name rolled around in his head. He had heard it before... “You're Saitou's wife,” he bluntly stated, his expression between amazed and dumbfounded. Of all the types of people that he thought could put up with Saitou Hajime's attitude, the type of refinement that the woman before the three of them exuded was so far out of the spectrum of his imagination that he was completely at a loss as to how it happened.

He was not the only one to have such a dumfounded look, for Aoshi was also looking quite quizzically at the woman. The tinkling of laughter from Tokio startled Kenshin out of his stupor and he looked over from Aoshi to see that there was a highly amused smile on Okita's face and that Tokio had demurely put a hand up to her mouth to cover the laughter slightly. There was a certain grace that she projected, and Kenshin was struck at just how elegant she looked, even when standing still. His realization into the kind of woman that had married Saitou was furthered with the knowledge that perhaps Saitou Tokio was a high-born daughter of a samurai. There was a slight pang in his heart as he saw a ghostly image of Tomoe's upbringing within Tokio.

He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the old memories and as Aoshi took the lead to enter the Aoiya, he followed the others. There were already people sitting around the circular table, one of them being Saitou, who had quite a large amount of paper before him; some covered in many characters, others blank and ready to be written upon. There was an ink block and brush ready to go. Misao, the herbalist Takahashi Reika, and Dr. Yamazaki, were already seated at the table.

Kenshin took a seat directly opposite of Saitou, for he wanted to watch the former Shinsengumi very carefully. Too many things had happened in the past few days, and he wanted to be sure that he knew everything. Saitou was a hard man to read, but Kenshin had enough experience in the past and knew that he could tell when the man was withholding information. He, Kenshin, knew that he was already too deeply involved in whatever was going on to pull out and refuse to continue to help. He also knew that on good conscience, he could not.

Aoshi had settled himself between Saitou and Misao, while Okita had taken a seat so that he was at the quarter half of the table, between Saitou and him, Kenshin, as if readying himself to be a mediator of sorts. The herbalist, Reika, and Dr. Yamazaki were seated to the left of Kenshin. That left only three spaces at the table, and one was for Tokio, who had gone to the kitchens to fetch a large tray of tea. After she had served everyone a steaming mug, she place the tray away and took a seat directly next to her husband.

“We failed to procure the herbs that Yamazaki-sensei requested,” Kenshin began. “Ginte and his wife were killed before we could rescue them and all of the herbs that Ginte had had been burnt.”

“So how does that explain running into him,” Saitou asked, gesturing to Okita, “and his apprentice?”

If Okita was offended at being treated as if he were not here, he did not show it, and before Kenshin could speak, it was Misao who jumped in with, “We got to an intersection on the road and I sort of remembered the route to Ginte's hut. They ran into us. Yuki said that Ginte had moved again and showed us where he thought the herbalist was currently living.”

“How were they killed?”

Kenshin glanced over at Aoshi before saying, “The hut was empty and ransacked when we arrived. Misao-dono heard chanting and we followed it to a waterfall. Ginte and his wife were hanging from a tree on an island in the middle of the river. They were killed by a shadow-like creature before we could stop it. We attacked the creature, but it transformed...”

“It transformed into something that looked exactly like Himura-san here,” Okita finished up for him. “Except I think it was the hitokiri and not who we currently have.”

“If what old man Okina says is correct,” Aoshi spoke up, “then these Fuuma clansmen priests draw upon the most potent fear in the area, and their shadow-creatures will take on the greatest fear of that person. If that is true, then Himura was the targeted one...unless...”

“No,” Okita said, shaking his head slightly, “my greatest fear was never Himura Battousai.”

“Aoshi,” Kenshin said, his heart heavy as he realized that though he had conquered his fear of reverting to the hitokiri within him, it was his actions after that fateful snowy new year that he still regretted and feared. “It was me. That man...that person inside of me is something I still fear and regret to this day.”

“But Himura,” Misao protested, “you said that after after mastering the succession technique, you no longer feared being the hitokiri. You said that old geezer Hiko Seijurou helped you see the light.”

Kenshin faintly smiled at Misao's attempt to cheer him up, but it was short-lived as he said, “Ah, that I did, Misao-dono. This person who manifested in that shadow-creature is someone else...someone who keeps reminding me of what I did in the past.”

“Did the creature fight like you, Battousai?” Saitou interrupted all of them by bringing them back to the main task at hand.

“No,” he stated. “It was stronger, much stronger than anything that I've ever encountered.”

“The shinobi who summoned the creature also summoned a strange fog that seemed to slow down our movements,” Okita supplied. “My apprentice was completely immobilized, while Himura-san and I were barely able to keep up with the attacks from the creature. It did not seem to utilize any type of sword style and just seemed to attack with brute force strength. Misao-chan seemed to be the only one of us that could move easily.”

“I was able to,” Misao said, nodding, “but that was only after I found the shinobi who was doing the incantation.”

“Shinomori?” Saitou asked and Kenshin eyes darted over to where the former _Okashira_ looked to be in deep thought with quite a pronounced frown on his face.

“Debilitating fog is a technique that used to be used by most, if not all shinobi clans during the Sengoku era. Its a very old technique that fell out of favor just after the Battle of Sekigahara, since it requires the shinobi using it to stand still and be exposed to attacks. Ryuusui no Ugoki is derived from that, allowing shinobi who had mastered it to easily attack any swordsmen. Shinobi are harder to pin down with both types of techniques, due to the physical conditioning required for us to move swiftly,” Aoshi said after a moment.

“Yeah, but, even after I attacked, the guy was moving and striking back,” Misao said.

“Then there was a second person summoning the fog,” Okita quietly said. “But we weren't immediately attacked after Himura disabled the shinobi.”

“No, but someone was and may still be watching our movements,” Kenshin pointed out. “We were attacked just outside of Kyoto by fifty shinobi. None of them used any type of special techniques though. We also sent a message via Misao's pigeon the day before we arrived. Judging from your questioning of what happened, Saitou, it looks like it was intercepted.”

“We also found a message from Aya-oba,” Misao said. “It said 'run now' in the message and it looked like it had either been delivered the day before or that same day we arrived at the hut.”

Saitou said nothing except to jot down something quick on one of the pieces of paper, though after a few minutes, he resumed by saying, “Shinomori and Takahashi discovered that the western cookware shop at the docks was potentially harboring the poison and poisoners. We could not risk an international debacle by invading the place without sufficient justification. Unfortunately, since it's burnt down, our evidence is now a moot point. Five people were killed before the explosion. Three street urchins who were bled to death potentially by Fuuma shinobi, and one woman, who died as collateral when the child she was carrying inside of her was poisoned.”

Kenshin felt the blood drain from his face as the world around him looked quite distant and far away. How could such a poison be so precise? It was then he realized just how much danger not only Kaoru but other women who were also carrying children were in. His own wife was now potentially a target, and the thought made angry and worried. However, the rational side of him told him to look back, and he realized that during the rescue of people caught in the explosion and fires, not only was Saitou Tokio there to help her husband, she had stayed quite close to Kaoru during the time.

He looked up just as his mind tuned back into the discussion and he heard Yamazaki finish up with, “... stop-gap measure, but only for the time being.”

If anyone had noticed that he had withdrawn for a moment, no one mentioned it. He flicked a quick, indiscreet look at Tokio, who looked quite concerned with what had just been said. He had a lot to thank for, and knew that there was no way Saitou would have asked his wife to do anything dangerous unless there was sufficient justification for it. Saitou did not deliberately put anyone in harm's way unless he could not help it – that was how Kenshin saw the man operate. Though the ex-Shinsengumi's methods of getting things done were quite questionable, there was no doubt in Kenshin's mind that everything Saitou did was for the preservation of peace and protection of the people.

There was a loud clatter from the entrance to the Aoiya that caused all of them to look over to see what had caused it. Ledgers, along with quite a few boxes of brushes and a couple of ink stones had been spilled over and Ichimura Tetsunosuke entered, looking quite frustrated. Kenshin could see that both Dr. Yamazaki and Okita were wanting to go help Ichimura, but had refrained from leaving the meeting, since their presence were still needed.

“Remove yourself from this place right now, Ichimura,” Saitou said in a decidedly harsh tone, startling most of the people at the table. “This is a private meeting.”

“Saitou,” Okita immediately admonished, his tone sharp. It was the lack of honorifics that told Kenshin just how irritated Okita was at Saitou.

“Last I saw,” Ichimura said as he gathered the spilled items back into the crate that they had been stacked in, “the Aoiya belonged to Kashiwazaki-san. Anyone who is a patron here are free to enter and leave as they want.”

“Then remove yourself quickly,” Saitou shot back.

A frustrated noise emerged from Okita's mouth as the swordsman pushed back his chair and went over to help Ichimura. Kenshin didn't know or understand what Saitou's problem was with Ichimura, but since that day when he had seen Ichimura react to Saitou's presence in his shop when the children had been poisoned, it seemed the two constantly butt heads whenever they were in the same room. It also seemed that Okita knew of whatever was between the two, but he wasn't going to pry for it was not entirely his concern. Saitou certainly was someone that would be hard-pressed to be friends with.

Kenshin did note that there was a slightly exasperated look on Tokio's face though, but she did not say anything. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Yamazaki shake his head slightly, as if wishing that the small spat had not happened or was tired of hearing such a vitriolic argument. As soon as Okita and Ichimura took the crate of supplies up to the second floor, Saitou resumed the meeting.

However, Saitou did not even begin to speak when footsteps descended the second floor and the group saw Ichimura lingering at the entrance while Okita approached. The swordsman asked, “Has anyone seen Saya-chan and Tetsu-kun's children tonight?”

Heads shook a negative around the table and Kenshin could tell that Okita was worried, and a glance over at Ichimura told him the same thing. He had found out from Kaoru that she had been helping Saya with the Ichimura children when he had been gone to find Ginte. Ichimura's wife was mute, but she was still a caring mother. Ichimura's store and home had been among those that had burnt down. His wife also told him that for the sake of what had happened, Ichimura had sent a quick message, using one of the Oniwabanshuu's pigeons, off to the temple-school where Saya and the children were, to tell them to stay at the temple-school for a few days.

“I sent a message to the temple-school earlier in the day as per Ichimura-san's request,” Tokio spoke up, concerned. “I got a reply from the head priest about an hour ago that they were on their way and informed Ichimura-san of it. I thought they might've met up near the docks.”

“Thank you for the information, Tokio-dono,” Okita said. “Saitou-san, I am going to look for Tetsu-kun's wife and children. Please let me know the results of this meeting when we return.”

“Okita,” Saitou said, catching his comrade's attention, “take your sword.”

There was a curt nod from the former Shinsengumi as he rounded the table and picked up his sword which had been lying against the edge of the table. Silence descended upon the group for a few long minutes after Ichimura and Okita left.

It was Aoshi who broke the uncomfortable silence as he spoke up, asking the question that burned throughout their minds, “Are you expecting anything bad?”

“No,” Saitou said, taking a cigarette out and lighting it up. He puffed on it for a moment before saying, “We can send riders to other cities and see what they have for herbal stores, but I need most of the men here to keep law and order.”

“So we'll have to go on our own,” Yamazaki said.

“Yes,” Saitou answered quite curtly. “unless Osaka sends some of their force to help. A messenger was sent earlier today informing them of what had happened to the station and our communications. It will take Tokyo at least a week to gather forces and send them down. Unlike last year where we had time to prepare for Shishio's attack, we do not have the luxury now. If the destruction of the police station and the poisoning of the children are linked, then we will have to make do with what we have.”

“We can send pigeons out to our allies in the city,” Misao suggested. “We're already doing patrols, and it wouldn't hurt to have more eyes on the streets.”

“The doctors familiar with the poisonings are also well aware of the stop-gap measure so far,” Yamazaki spoke up as Saitou remained silent, puffing away on his cigarette. “I can see if they know of some other herbalists outside of the city that may have some stocks to keep the stop-gap viable until we can reestablish communication.”

Kenshin thought that they were all good suggestions, but the burden would be spread to the populace, who were still recovering from what happened two days ago. Added to that burden were the tourists who had traveled from far and wide and were now trapped here because of the lack of transportation. Of course, most could take the roads and walk back or go to Osaka to take the ferries back to home ports, but there had been some semblance of martial law imposed in the city. Everyone going in and out were checked by officers who were ensuring that hooliganism was not going to be a problem.

“Do what you will,” Saitou said almost dismissively after minutes of silence.

“Saitou,” Kenshin quietly spoke up. “Why were three children bled to death?” It had been bothering him ever since the policeman had mentioned it, and he wondered if their unusual deaths by potentially Fuuma shinobi had a more sinister bearing on the poisonings. Perhaps the clan of shinobi were getting tired of killing via the unusual poison? “When were the bodies found?”

Instead of Saitou answering, it was Aoshi who said, “We were called to the scene minutes before the explosion. The children had multiple wounds on their bodies, all covered up by clothing. Blue-black dye was painted on their lips to make it look like they had died via the western poison. The fact that they were found so close to where the main station was suggests that the explosion might have been caused by Fuuma shinobi.”

“Or it might suggest that the Fuuma no longer care about clandestine operations such as poisonings,” Reika spoke up for the first time since the meeting started. Kenshin could hear a rawness in her voice and remembered that she had been a defector from the clan, hunted like sport by her former clansmen. “ _Oka—_ sorry, Aoshi,” she continued, catching her mistake, “the Fuuma were never a patient clan. You've seen what they did during the revolution...what they did in trying to usurp our position as the primary spy network for the Shogunate. Thirty of our best were killed before we could stop them.”

“Eh?” Misao jumped in, with a puzzled look on her face as Kenshin saw that there was a haunted look on not only Reika's face, but also Dr. Yamazaki and Aoshi. It was something that was internal to the Oniwabanshuu, and Kenshin felt that he had no right to disturb or ask, especially since it looked like Misao knew none of it. However, he had a feeling that whatever had happened to the Oniwabanshuu in the past had some bearing in the current crisis, but none of the three senior shinobi present were people who were greatly inclined to talk about what happened in the past.

Silence fell upon the table again as Saitou took another puff and looked over at the four shinobi, waiting for them to continue speaking.

“We will need to tell you in full of what happened in Edo when the Shinsengumi were conferred as _hatamoto_ ,” Yamazaki spoke up, surprising Kenshin. He had thought that it would be Aoshi who would say such words, but a quick glance over at the tall shinobi told him that Aoshi had merely inclined his head slightly for the doctor to speak. “I would, however, like to tell it when Okita-sensei is present. He was involved in what happened.”

“Fine--” Saitou said, but was cut off when footsteps were heard coming from the second floor and descending to the first floor, again. Those at the table turned to see who had interrupted the meeting for a second time, and this time, it was not someone they had expected.

With an arm slung around Yuki's shoulders for support, Kenshin saw Kyoto's spymaster, Matsumoto Aya, descend and approach the group. Sweat was pouring down her face from the exertion of just moving, and Dr. Yamazaki immediately got up, his chair clattering to the floor, as he rushed to help the woman.  Seconds turned into minutes of silence as the doctor and Yuki walked Matsumoto towards the table. Just as the spymaster reached the table, Misao got up and offered her vacant seat to her aunt and as both Yuki and Dr. Yamazaki gently seated her.

“You're awake,” Saitou said as soon as everyone was settled again.

“Takes more than a gunpowder explosion to kill me, Saitou,” the spymaster snarked right back. “You also can't hold a war council without proper information.”

Saitou merely took a long drag out of his cigarette, waiting for the spymaster to say her words. After taking a sip of the tea proffered to her, Matsumoto said, “The poisonings are tied to the national case, Saitou. We had just confirmed it before the explosion via telegraph from other cities. Kyoto is not the only city to have had a rash of children being posioned. Osaka, Sendai, Nagasaki...every major city that has an established spymaster and network, has been targeted, including Tokyo.”

The spymaster paused to take another sip, allowing her strength to fill up again, for it looked like she was quite drained even after speaking so briefly. “Foreign agents are behind the attack. We believe that since Saigo Takamori's rebellion, they have found ways of easily infiltrating into many cities. Kyoto was one of the harder regions to penetrate, but since Shishio Makoto's rampage, they've gotten through and established a foothold here. We've confirmed five foreign agents, concentrated near the port in a western shop. Though our department could not confirm it, I am quite sure that the poisonings were meant as a distraction, to try to draw the information network away from monitoring the foreign agents. Since you were on the case in Kyoto, I can only assume that the explosion at the police station was a more drastic attempt to cut off communication between us and other cities. At least I think it's deliberate.”

There was another pause, though this time, it was longer, and Kenshin could see worry etched on Yuki and Misao's faces. After a moment, Matsumoto continued, saying, “However, five agents of the police force were sent out just before the explosion. We had informed Tokyo of our problems here and they gave us orders. Those five agents had orders from Tokyo to lie in wait and hunt down the foreign agents. We suspected that the foreign agents would take advantage of something big happening to leave Kyoto and attempt to infiltrate Tokyo and do damage there.”

Matsumoto stopped to take a drink from her tea, allowing the information to sink in. Kenshin felt a dread well up in his stomach at what exactly had happened. He remembered Okubou Toshimichi telling him and the others last year about the solidarity and strength of Japan needing to be shown so that foreigners would not see strife within their borders and take advantage of it. It seemed that that had failed.

“Did the department find out who the ringleaders of the poisonings were or of the foreign agents in Kyoto?” Saitou asked after a couple of minutes of digesting the information.

“Tokyo was able to send us two names before all communications were cut off. One is a French woman who calls herself Akesato. The other is a former Ishinshishi named Kitamura Suzu,” Matsumoto said.

_Did you happen to fight against one that has a similar kind of hair-color like yours..._

_If in the future you do, please let me know..._

_The herbalist, Ginte, gave me this and told me that it would help me forget my past..._

_You know nothing of my grief, Battousai..._

_He killed my master... Ichimura Tetsunosuke of the Shinsengumi killed my master..._

Kenshin abruptly stood up, startling everyone around the table. Horror filled his stomach as the echoes of a young man screaming for vengeance faded from his mind. With dread, he realized that the young man whom he had heard that during the final days of the Shogunate, supposedly had perished at Hakodate, was still alive. He, Kenshin, could have stopped the young man so many times before, but his grief for his deceased wife had stopped him; muddled his senses until he could break free of his duties to the Ishinshishi. This was something he could have prevented...

“Kitamura Suzu is after Ichimura Tetsunosuke and his family. Ichimura and Okita are walking into a trap!”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now...plot points are converging as the whirlwind gets tighter and faster.
> 
> As for the past portion of this chapter, it takes place almost directly after Part 6: Hitokiri Battousai, from my Echoes series of stories, along with being directly after a certain part in the first OAV/OVA of RK. I wanted Kenshin to tell Katsura what he thought of the skills of both Saitou and Okita, along with a fateful meeting with Kitamura Suzu, whom he later thought had perished at Hakodate.
> 
> I know there's a lot of characters to keep track of, but each has their own part to play. Tetsu will be coming more into prominence as the story progresses, now that revelations are being exposed. He'll also have to learn how the share the spotlight in the story with Saitou and Kenshin. (Don't look at me like that Tetsu... didn't your brother teach you how to share?)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Past: Autumn, 1867_

 

Layer after layer, Kenshin slowly peeled his mud-and-dirt covered gauntlets that was followed by his bloodied and filthy outer jacket, which then after, came the chain armor he had worn under the jacket. His sheathed sword was extracted from his outfit and placed to the side. Next came his hakama and then his uwagi, both of which hit the floor like a sack of flour, having been covered in so much filth and grime. It was only when he was standing stark naked did he reach for the heated well water and dumped an entire bucketful onto himself. Bucket after bucket, he drowned his body in the hot water, scrubbing blood, dirt, and sweat off until his skin was red and raw.

Pain was barely on the forefront of his conscious mind, for it was only what had happened tonight that kept him from noticing that he had scrubbed so hard that some of his sealed wounds from earlier were starting to bleed again. It was only the knock at the wooden door to the personal bathhouse at this particular inn that snapped him out of his blank fugue.

The knock came again, but this time, it was accompanied by a youthful voice that said, “Himura-dono, Kitamura-dono is here and is waiting for you.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” he managed to say as the heat that he had doused on his body, combined with the rough scrubbing he had given to himself was starting to be felt quite acutely. “Please tell him know that I will be present shortly.” He looked around and realized that he had forgotten a change of clothes, and just as the footsteps of the young inn-worker started to depart, he called out, “Would you also bring a change of clothes from my room?”

“Yes, sir,” the voice answered.

Kenshin did not have to wait long for the change of clothing to be brought to him and dressed himself. He usually did not enjoy keeping people waiting, but after what had happened today, he didn't care. Sliding the door open, he kicked the pile of dirty clothing and armor out, before picking his sword back up and sliding it back into its proper place by his side. Sliding the bathhouse's door close, he eyed the pile for a moment before heading towards the main part of the inn – he would wash the clothes and clean the chain armor later.

He was directed to the room where Kitamura was waiting and entered it with out preamble. Kitamura opened his eyes from his meditative state as Kenshin sat and placed his sword by his side. However, there was something unusual today, and it was not the fact that Kitamura looked the same as he usually did; there was a black-lacquered skull sitting to the side of Kitamura. The young man caught his gaze and Kenshin looked away from the skull as Kitamura asked, “Did you encounter Shinsengumi members today?”

“Yes,” he curtly answered, unsurprised by the first question out of Kitamura's mouth, pushing the strangeness of the skull away from his mind. Every single time Kitamura had come to gather reports of what had happened, that was the first question he ever asked. He had asked Katsura what was with Kitamura's obsession with the group, but his employer had merely shook his head and said nothing.

“Pardon the intrusion, good sirs,” a voice said from the other side of the partition, “but I have the tea that you've requested, Kitamura-dono.”

“Enter,” Kitamura said. The partition slid open and a young woman entered, carrying a tray with two tea mugs. She placed the mugs before them and left without another word. Kenshin silently waited as he saw Kitamura reach into the folds of his uwagi and pull out a small packet that looked like herbal medicine.

He mentally frowned as he watched Kitamura eye the medicine with an almost disinterested look. Physically, he could see nothing wrong with Kitamura and wondered why the young man was taking medication. But Kitamura didn't do anything with the packet and merely placed it on his lap before continuing to ask, “Did you encounter a red-haired young man?”

“No,” he answered, irritated that it was the same two questions over and over again that started every report. “We encountered Saitou Hajime and his unit, along with some other factions. Why are you so interested in this young man? Who is he and what did he do to you?”

In response, he saw Kitamura pick up the herbal packet, holding it by the tips of his forefinger and thumb, as if it were a delicate item that could break at any second. “A herbalist, Ginte, gave me this and told me that it would help me forget my past,” Kitamura said. “But I don't want to take it...yet I sometimes want to, because his face haunts my dreams. Taunting me, laughing at me, showing me over and over who I failed to save that night...”

Kenshin realized that this Shisengumi member whom Kitamura constantly asked about, must have killed someone dear to the young man. His own heart, broken because of what he had done on that fateful, snowy day, resonated with Kitamura's own, and he felt his annoyance die away. “I understand what you must be feeling--”

“You know nothing of my grief!” Kitamura suddenly hissed, pinning him with ice-cold eyes as the packet of herbs was crushed in his hand. His other hand had slammed down on the skull and was furiously scraping a portion of the eye sockets with his nails.

Kenshin was instantly on guard, his hand hovering closely to his blade, ready to snatch it up and draw if Kitamura made any sudden moves. Those eyes of the young man had suddenly become animalistic, almost insane with fury, and that made him very wary. Was Katsura aware that his page had this black pit in his soul?

“If you dare tell Katsura about this,” Kitamura said in a chilly tone that made Kenshin's hairs on the back of his neck rise, “I will kill you.”

Normally, he would not have balked at such a threat, especially from someone such as Kitamura, since a page threatening an assassin was almost laughable. However, just the way the young man had stated it gave Kenshin some pause. There was something strange, something he couldn't pin down and it gave him a bad feeling that told him that Kitamura was quite capable of carrying out his threat.

“What happened?” he asked, forcing himself to lift his hand away from his sword. “If you want me to report on the Shinsengumi member you're searching for, I need to know who he is.”

“He's a poison running through my veins,” Kitamura said, releasing his hand from the skull and sat back, seemingly calming himself down. “He killed my master, Yoshida-sensei. Ichimura Tetsunosuke killed my master.”

_Vengeance_ , he thought to himself, _Kitamura wields a blade of vengeance._ Could he sit there and let another person's grief consume them? He had seen and experienced what the blade of revenge had done, and it had cost him the life of his wife. Yoshida was no family member of Kitamura's but it was apparent to Kenshin that Kitamura treated Yoshida like family. He could say all he wanted to stop Kitamura, but those eyes of his spoke otherwise – there was no reasoning with the young man.

“If I ever encounter this Ichimura Tetsunosuke in battle,” he carefully asked, “what do you want me to do?”

“You are not to kill him,” Kitamura said in a strangely saccharine, almost gleeful tone. “Give him this message from me: you forfeited your family's lives the day you killed my family. I will have my vengeance in this life or the next.”

Kenshin nodded, hoping that he would never have to utter those words. At least Kitamura didn't order him to kill this Ichimura Tetsunosuke. Though he knew that it was futile, he tried to make the young man see the uselessness of his thirst for revenge by saying, “Revenge will not bring you happiness, Kitamura. I've seen it with my own eyes.”

“Don't you dare lecture me on revenge,” the young man answered, furious, but less so than what he had displayed earlier. “Your 'wife' was only a shell of a true Japanese woman and could not even avenge her betrothed. You know _nothing_ of my grief, Battousai. If you even had a sliver of the flames that burns inside of me, you would already be out there, slaughtering those Shogunate dogs – not letting Shishio Makoto take the credit. You would've already been at Ikedaya the moment you heard that the meeting was being attacked by the Miburo, helping my master escape to live another day! You wouldn't be a coward, sitting here because you could not stomach Shogunate forces using villagers as shields today!”

Cold rage welled up inside Kenshin as he pinned his narrowed golden eyes on the young man, shutting him up. However, it was only because of fatigue from the day's work or something else that he thought he saw a faint apparition of Tomoe kneeling behind Kitamura that stayed his blade. Whatever it was, it was still Tomoe, and she was slowly shaking her head, silently telling him not to lop this young man's head off.

“It seems that you've talked to the others and already have your report for Katsura-san,” he managed to grind out, forcing himself to yet again, set his sword down. “I have nothing to add to that report and can confirm that yes, other Shogunate forces we encountered today after the Shinsengumi, used villagers as shields to cover their escape.”

“I agree,” Kitamura curtly said as he got up, taking the black skull with him and left without another word.

As soon as the door to the room slid closed, Kenshin forced himself to breathe as evenly as possible, falling into a meditative state. He didn't know when was the next time he would see Katsura, but consequences be damned, he had to let his employer know. Writing a letter was too dangerous, for it could be easily intercepted, and with the Shogun abdicating power and moving out of Kyoto, Choshuu and Satsuma forces were sure to swarm the city, burying Katsura more and more into politics. Kenshin hoped that there would be time soon so that he could request a personal meeting. Kitamura was a danger, not only to himself, but to every other Ishinshishi.

 

_Kenshin never got to meet with Katsura before the Battle of Toba-Fushimi. After leaving the newly christened Imperial forces in early 1868, he kept an ear open for Kitamura Suzu's name. The last he heard of Kitamura was that the young man had left his duties as Katsura's page and joined the Imperial forces in the north in preparation for the invasion of the Republic of Ezo. It was widely rumored that Kitamura was among those Imperial forces who had perished at the Battle of Hakodate._

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

“Kitamura Suzu is after Ichimura Tetsunosuke and his family. Ichimura and Okita are walking into a trap!”

Saitou exhaled, letting the cloud of smoke surround him as if he were a spirit wolf breathing a spell upon the area. Before anyone could react to Himura's words, he demanded, “Explain.”

He knew that the Battousai would never say such words without justification, and the fact that he could clearly see unease in the ex-hitokiri's stance told him that this was no false alarm. However, he was quite confident of Okita's abilities to defend not only himself, but others, even if it were a trap. There was no immediate rush to go assist his comrade just yet, not until he knew why Kitamura was a threat against a man who had longed to die since Hakodate but did not have the courage to commit seppuku.

“After Ikedaya, Katsura Kogoro found Kitamura Suzu before he fled Kyoto,” Himura said, continuing to stand, as if ready to bolt, “He took Kitamura in as his own page. I reported to Kitamura whenever Katsura was not available, and during one of those times, he told me that he was seeking revenge against a Shinsengumi member. That person was Ichimura Tetsunosuke.”

“Revenge for what?” Saitou asked, knowing that his calm and collected demeanor was having an affect on everyone around the table, both adversely and positively.

“For killing his master, Yoshida Toshimaro at Ikedaya.”

“But, Tetsu didn't kill Yoshida,” Yamazaki immediately said. “I saw Okita deal the killing blow to save Tetsu's life.”

The range of emotions that flitted through the Battousai's face was quite interesting, but Saitou knew that action had to be taken. Whether or not Ichimura had killed in the past, this was still a national problem compounded by a personal grudge. Unfortunately, a few of those around the table were quite short-sighted--

“Regardless,” Himura said, “Saya-dono and her children may also be in danger. Those two are walking into a trap, especially if we can assume that Kitamura has control of Fuuma forces and those shadow-creatures. We need to go help them! Aoshi, do you know where the temple-school is?”

“Yes,” the shinobi curtly answered, and Saitou irritatingly sighed when without another word, the Battousai, Shinomori, and Yamazaki left. Fortunately, it seemed that despite how pale and sickly Matsumoto looked, the spymaster managed to raise an arm and blocked Weasel Girl from going after the three.

“But--” the girl protested but was roughly cut off by Takahashi, who had a worried look on her face, but knew better than to just run off.

“What do you need us to do, Saitou?” she asked.

“Ichimura has an older brother, Ichimura Tatsunosuke,” he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and let it rest between his fingers. “Even if what Yamazaki says is true and its a case of mistaken identity, Kitamura won't just be targeting the younger. He'll be after the older one too. Revenge can drive a man to see only blood and the only way it can be satisfied is if every person related or loved by the victim is dead.”

“It's a long shot, Saitou,” Matsumoto spoke up, her voice quite hoarse. “Neither brother has spoken to each other since before Toba-Fushimi. Even then, there's also the possibility that Kitamura may accept that Ichimura did not kill his master and blame Souji for it. What's to stop Kitamura from sending his forces against Souji's sister, Mitsu, and her family?”

“He won't,” Saitou said with absolute confidence as he tapped the cigarette gently against an ashtray and let the burned ashes fall. “Every 'revenge' case that I've worked with has one common core. The person or persons enacting the revenge is focused on the past. Yukishirou Enishi was the most recent one, and though his body grew, his mind did not – he was so focused on the past that he could not see into the future and thus targeted Battousai and Battousai's woman only. Kitamura's mind is solely focused on who he knows back then, and thus the Ichimura brothers and those they love being more of a target than outliers like the Okita family.”

Though Matsumoto looked like she wanted to argue the logic, she furrowed her brow slightly as she thought about what was said and a moment later said, “Understood.”

Glad that the clarification was done and accepted, Saitou turned his attention back to Takahashi and said, “I need you and Weasel Girl--”

“Hey--!”

“I need you and Weasel Girl,” he repeated, annoyed with the interruption, “to go find Ichimura Tatsunosuke and bring him back here for police protection.”

“He should be living in Otsu,” Matsumoto supplied off the top of her head, and Saitou briefly wondered how she knew that, but brushed the thought away. The Imperial spy network had far-reaching fingers, and it would not be hard for someone like a spymaster to know where certain persons of interest lived. He knew that the elder Ichimura was a certain person of interest, since the government had attempted to recruit him for his linguistic skills a few years after the end of the war. Ichimura had refused, but the government had kept tabs on him. “He has a wife, Hanako. They have no children,” Matsumoto continued.

“You can't order me around,” Machimaki protested.

“Misao,” Matsumoto warned, and this time, even Saitou could hear the edge in the spymaster's tone. “I don't know how you got roped into this, and I don't like it, but you're under the government's jurisdiction now. That means you follow any orders that are given by the lead investigator. The _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu also cannot just go running off on a whim; he or she needs to focus on the bigger picture, and right now, that bigger picture is to ensure that whatever happens, Kitamura does not enable collateral damage or deaths to happen. Three of our best are already on their way to ensure that if the trap is real, they will be able to help defeat Kitamura. You need to make sure that others are safe. You need to separate your feelings from this matter.”

Saitou stuck the cigarette back in his mouth as he watched the protest slowly fall from Weasel Girl's face. The immaturity and lack of experience were the only two reasons why he did not want Machimaki involved in the investigation, but once it was known that she knew where the herbalist had been, her fate in joining the team had been sealed. There was no other way he could send the girl away except to go fetch Ichimura Tatsunosuke and his wife. With the more experienced Takahashi by her side, at least he knew that the mission would possibly not fail – if indeed his theory was correct.

With no immediate outside communication, and no policeman he could spare from Kyoto, there was no way he could sneak in an order for a small group of policemen from the Aizu area that he trusted, to keep an eye on Okita Mitsu and her family – they were on their own.

“A-alright,” Machimaki reluctantly said. “Otsu, right?”

“Yes,” Matsumoto answered and paused for a moment. In a softer tone, she said, “Aoshi will be okay.”

“Yeah,” the girl answered, faintly smiling, “I know.”

As soon as the two shinobi left, he saw Matsumoto sink back into her seat, clearly quite exhausted as she closed her eyes for a brief moment. He also heard his wife get up and start gathering the various mugs of tea. As for Matsumoto's young son, he was looking quite worriedly at his mother, but there was a fierce determination in the way he sat in the chair. For such a young boy, Saitou found him quite disciplined for he had expected the boy to run off with the others, especially to go aid his master. He had assumed that the boy was just as bratty, if not as insolent as the scrawny kid that Himura's wife instructed, but alas, he had been proven wrong. Perhaps there was some hope in the world for the next generation.

“Yuki,” Matsumoto said, as she opened her eyes again, “Please go help Tokio-san with the dishes.”

“There is no need, Aya-san,” Saitou heard his wife's voice call out from the kitchen. “But I'm sure that some of the patients will need checking up, since Yamazaki-sensei is not here.”

“Okay,” the young boy said, “but you really shouldn't be up, okaasan.”

“I'll get some rest as soon as we're done talking,” Matsumoto said, attempting to give the boy a reassuring nod that failed for the most part, due to exhaustion.

Saitou waited until the boy was out of the area before sliding some of the notes he had made in the past two days, drawn from what he had remembered, to the spymaster. Nothing had survived the fire; no notebooks of notes or evidence from his investigation, and thus everything had to be rewritten down from memory. He supposed that the spymaster had it worse – she had to remember years of meticulous data gathering, especially since now that his investigation was actually a part of the national one. If the explosion at the station was not a fluke and an act of foreign forces, then Japan had bigger problems to worry about than one man's revenge.

“So we have at least five agents that can still be accounted for,” he stated. Five of Kyoto's finest police officers outside of Kyoto was much better than none. They could at least utilize those officers, once they neutralized the foreign agents, to run messages to other cities connected by the Imperial spy network.

“Yes,” she said, slowly pulling herself back up from her tired slouch. “What are the 'shadow-creatures' that Himura mentioned? And what's this about Fuuma clansmen?”

“Shinomori and I were attacked by one while investigating how the poison was being distributed and why children were the only ones targeted,” he explained, taking a drag out of his cigarette. “It didn't linger and ran away. Shinomori consulted with Kashiwazaki and theorized that Fuuma clansmen were behind the attack, since Kashiwazaki said that they were the only shinobi clan from the Sengoku times who had the ability to summon these types of creatures. However, Okita, Himura Battousai, your son, and your niece were attacked while attempting to secure rare herbs to help with a cure for the poison from a person named 'Ginte'. Unfortunately, Ginte and his wife were killed and the herbs could not be retreived. They also found a letter in the hut with your hand writing on it.”

“That was a warning,” Matsumoto said, “for Ginte and his wife. I had been monitoring where they were living for many years since I became spymaster. It was not because of Ginte though – it was Ginte's wife. Hotaru was her name, though I don't remember if you've seen her during your time with the Shinsengumi. She was a former Fuuma shinobi who attempted and failed to spy on the Shinsengumi before Ikedaya. The Kyoto Oniwabanshuu took her in after she had been carelessly discarded by the clansmen before Ikedaya.

“The Fuuma realized their mistake after we virtually wiped them out during the revolution; Hotaru has the abilities to summon shadow creatures, though none of the Kyoto Oniwabanshuu knew that until she manifested that ability one random day. The old man decided to hide her with my former master, Ginte, and when I joined the Kyoto police force, he told me about her and her abilities. Since then, I've been monitoring them, and moved them around the area whenever I thought something was amiss. I didn't know it was the Fuuma clan that was looking for her, and now, it looks like my warning came too late.”

“Or it could've been a mere coincidence that Ginte was targeted specifically because their shadow-creatures hide so well that no one can detect it until its too late,” Saitou said, taking out another cigarette and lighting that one up with the end of the first one before quashing the first one into the table. “Twice I had felt a faint 'oppressive' feeling – once just before Shinomori and I were attacked, and the second time, when we were having a meeting before agreeing to go find Ginte. It's safe to say that because of our lack of vigilance, Ginte and his wife were killed.”

Admitting fault was something that Saitou rarely did, but this time, because of what had happened, and the fact that it was a case that would have severe consequences if it were not stopped, he knew that he had to say it. Mistakes and carelessness was what had killed all of Saitou's case predecessors, and he was determined not to fall into that same trap. “Okita and the others were also attacked by fifty shinobi before they got to Kyoto.”

“That's almost as much as the number of Oniwabanshuu who served in Edo,” Matsumoto said after a long pause to which she had taken a sip of her tea. “That's a lot more than I expected for their numbers.”

“Given the pacifistic state of Battousai,” he said, “we can assume that perhaps half of those are still alive with the rest dead by Okita's blade.”

“Twenty-five is still a lot,” Matsumoto stated, though with fatigue coloring her voice, it was hard to understand her, “and if all of them can summon creatures...”

“I sent riders to Osaka,” he said, knowing that the spymaster would eventually succumb to her body's need to rest from her injuries and would not be able to continue the discussion soon. “Telegraph lines are gone and so is the train station and tracks. Only one other police spy survived the explosion besides you. They're carrying missives on what has happened, so we should receive more men in the city soon.”

“Good,” the spymaster slurred slightly. “Osaka...can...spare...”

Saitou looked up just in time to see his wife emerge from the kitchen and hurry to Matsumoto's side. Wordlessly, she helped the spymaster up and slung an arm around her shoulders, slowly walking her away from the table and back up the stairs. As soon as the two women disappeared over the threshold of the second floor, Saitou turned back to his notes and folded his hands together while placing his elbows on the table. He needed the spymaster to recover faster, for there were so many questions he had, and he knew that she had most of the answers.

There was, however, one question that he wished he had asked during their brief discussion: was this particular Akesato named by Tokyo related to the western woman who formerly ran the cookware shop that contained the poison?

* * *

“Excuse me, Suzuki-san.”

Okita stood slightly to the side, watching the flow of people in the crowded streets as he listened to Tetsu inquire about the location of Saya and the children. There were many hushed conversations between people that walked the streets, all of them under the watchful gaze of Kyoto's police force. Some were scared, some were trying to relax and enjoy what they could, for the festivities, though more subdued, were still ongoing. Most though, were still talking about what had happened two days ago. So far, he could see no sign of Tetsu's family within the crowds.

More than once, Okita caught eyes glancing at him, and at the sword that he carried. A few had been passing policemen, but seeing that their comrades were not arresting a civilian clearly breaking the law, they didn't question and moved on. Okita could only surmise that Saitou had given the policemen orders not to arrest either him or Himura. He was grateful for it, but he wished that the unease he felt in the fact that Saya and the children still had not returned, was not present.

There was also the fact that Saitou had 'suggested' that he take his sword with him, and that made him very wary. If Kyoto's police force was anything like Tokyo's police force, then there should be nothing to worry about and he should not have had to carry his sword, even when going with Tetsu to see if the family was still at the temple-school. He knew that his old comrade always had a very sharp and devious mind, but this – telling him to bring his sword – told him, Okita, that Saitou was anticipating an attack of some sort.

He was also well aware that Tetsu and Saitou did not get along, and he knew that it stemmed from Saigo Takamori's rebellion, hence him being quite annoyed at the lack of manners displayed earlier between the two. It was already enough that given the information discussed, they all knew that Kyoto's police force could not respond fast enough to anticipate any poisoning of children by Fuuma clansmen. Tetsu's children were within the age range of being potential targets, but so were many other children. There was only so much he could do, given his current health and condition, and while 'patrolling' the streets of Kyoto was something he was willing to do, if it turned into a prolonged fight in an area with little police coverage, he knew that it could be potentially fatal.

“Ah, its Ichimura-san of the stationary store by the docks, isn't it?” the old proprietor of this particular shop that Tetsu had stopped by said.

“Yes,” Tetsu confirmed. “I was hoping that you could tell me something.”

“Yes, yes, I can,” the old proprietor said.

“Have you see my wife Saya or my children recently?”

There was a pause, and Okita glanced back to see that the old proprietor had a puzzled look on her face as she thought about it. Tetsu looked quite apprehensive and worried, but there was little he could do for his friend. He returned his gaze out into the streets, hoping that the news was good.

It was not as the woman answered, “I haven't seen them since before the police station explosion, Ichimura-san. However, I have seen some of the others who had stayed for the past days at the temple-school that your wife and children go to, pass by here about an hour ago. Maybe they're still there.”

“Thank you, Suzuki-san,” Tetsu said, and Okita heard the rustling of clothing as the two gave polite bows towards each other. A moment later, Tetsu stepped up next to him and dejectedly sighed.

“Your family will be fine, Tetsu-kun,” he said, trying to inject as much reassurance as he could into the tone of his voice. He still had fond memories of the hilariously bratty, insolent, but headstrong fifteen-year-old that had petitioned to join the Shinsengumi, fifteen years ago. However, the revolution and the years that came after had changed Tetsu from a naive child who thought he had wanted revenge, to a broken shell of a man. Try as he might, the pieces that had broken could not be put back together and all Okita felt he could do for his friend was to try to keep what was left together.

“Yeah,” Tetsu answered as they started to move again, threading their way through the thick crowds at evening meal time, most of whom were trying to find a restaurant that had open seats.

The two of them silently made their way through to the outskirts of the ancient city where buildings started to taper off into farmland, and though it was on the other side of Kyoto, Okita had a sudden influx of old memories from the days where the old Shinsengumi headquarters had been in the Mibu village. They were both of the good and bad times, of when he knew that he had a limited time left to live, and vowed to spend it all in protecting the great city from the rebels.

He snapped out of his reminiscence as a chillingly familiar oppressive feeling prickled at the edges of his awareness, and immediately tightened his grip on his sword. He could feel Tetsu's questioning gaze upon him but silently shook his head as they continued into the farmlands. With the golden sun setting and giving a rainbow of reds, oranges, purples, and blue-hues in the sky, it was almost enjoyable, except for the fact that with each step forward that took them further and further away from the populous areas of the city, the oppressive feeling slowly increased.

The last time he had felt this feeling was during the chase to the waterfall and subsequent fight against the creature. Okita kept his left thumb poised on the guard of his sword, this time the sword facing the correct direction for him to let the blade sink into flesh. If the two of them were going to be ambushed by a shadow-creature, then there were no laws that would hold him back from trying to kill it. He was well aware that he had neither the strength of stamina to face against such a creature again, but the best he could do was to buy Tetsu as much time as he could so that Tetsu could get help.

“Feels strange,” he heard Tetsu mutter after a few more minutes of silent walking, and knew that his friend had finally started to sense the murky feeling.

He did not get a chance to answer as a child's cry for help pierced the silent air. The cry had come from ahead, towards the route to the temple-school, and even though it sounded incoherent, both of them broke into a run. With the setting sun directly in his eyes, Okita squinted, with the oppressive feeling getting heavier and heavier as they approached.

Over the crest of a small rice paddy path, he skidded to a halt, with Tetsu partially slamming into him from behind, as he saw what laid ahead. He immediately drew his sword out as he saw that sprawled out in a field was a woman and two children.

The three were not moving.

There was an enormous shadow-creature hovering over the woman, but as soon as Tetsu cried, “Saya!” the creature turned. It's glowing red eyes, pinned directly at the two of them, halted Tetsu from approaching, and without warning, it suddenly morphed into a humanoid shape.

“Get them out of here, Tetsu-kun!” he shouted as he angled his body for an attack and poured every ounce of energy he could summon into his legs. He let the war cry emerge from his lips as he charged towards the tall, gangly but terrifyingly strong form that the creature had taken. A black yukata, as dark as the midnight sky was clad on the body of the creature. Slick black hair framed a strong, angular face with narrow, snake-like eyes that told of the cunning mind it would have possessed, had it been the actual person.

It had taken all of Okita's strength and then some for him to fight against Yoshida Toshimaro at Ikedaya on that fateful day, fifteen years ago. However, for this battle, he had neither the luxury of youth or the full strength to deal with the apparition of the dead pyromaniac. There was only one thing he could do; and that was to buy enough time for Tetsu to get his family to safety.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to mention a blurb about the past part: there were no good or bad guys during the revolution - each side fought for what they believed in and each side did unspeakable things to the civilians caught in between the factions during the war. I decided to not write the skirmish that Kenshin and the other Ishinshishi engaged in, and just gave Kenshin a confirmation line on the brutality that was inflicted. This was done mainly because if I did write it, this fic would be rated mature, not teen. It's already dark enough as is. I might post that part as a separate one-shot later though.
> 
> Historical note: for those of you who've seen PMK, you might remember that Okita mentioned something about an older sister when he was talking to Tatsu when Tatsu was complaining about Tetsu. In real-life, Okita Souji was the youngest child of the Okita family (I don't remember if he had one or two sisters). Mitsu was his older sister and her husband married into the Okita family, thus why she kept the Okita family name.
> 
> On a brighter note, this chapter was brought to you by way too much listening of spycraft TV/movie music...and watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier (strangely inspired me to finish the chapter too)...and a break in writing this fanfic to work on my original novels. But now, I'm back, and writing this full-time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Kenshin could not afford to be gentle as he raced across the dusty roads of Kyoto, with Dr. Yamazaki hot on his heels. Aoshi had taken to the rooftops, and with the occasional guidance from the doctor who knew how to track Aoshi's rooftop movements, Kenshin ran. Shouts of disgruntled people that had dodged both him and the doctor trailed after them, and even a few policemen attempted to chase after them. It was only with the occasional shout of “medical emergency!” from the doctor that thankfully, no one caught up to them in their pursuit. As much as he wanted the police help, they had their duties to the people of the city, not to one individual.

As the density of the people, along with the houses started to thin and give way to farmland, Kenshin increased his speed. Aoshi had already jumped down from the last of the houses and had joined them on the ground. The sun was almost below the edge of the horizon when the three of them crested a rice paddy ridge, only to suddenly encounter a wall of flames.

The crackling sound of the fire filled the air, but did not cover the sounds of a fight beyond the flames. He could feel the intense heat, but knew that if this had been present earlier, for the ground around the flames was quite blackened, they would've already seen it from afar.

“An illusion,” he heard Aoshi state after a moment and saw the master shinobi pass straight through the flames without harm. Despite his own mind rebelling at what he had just seen and what his body clearly felt from the flames, he pushed through, and felt a strange feeling pass through him as he cleared the illusion.

Unfortunately, beyond the illusion were several black-clad shinobi, illuminated only by the flames, and they were surrounding what looked to be a woman and two children on the ground, along with Ichimura, who was trying to keep the shinobi away from them, but was unarmed. Fighting off to the side, but still too close to those lying on the ground, was Okita. The former Shinsengumi was fighting against a person as tall as Aoshi, except that Kenshin thought the person looked familiar.

He had only met Yoshida Toshimaro once before, and that was long ago when Yoshida had arrived in the city and stopped by the Choshuu clan house to pay his respects to Katsura. He, Kenshin, had been in the middle of a meeting with Katsura when the giant of a man showed up, and even then, Kenshin knew that Yoshida was dangerous. In this fight, that person that had the upper hand against Okita was dead, and therefore, Kenshin knew that it was a summoned creature, drawn from someone's fear.

“Aoshi, find the shinobi summoning Yoshida and the fire, we'll take care of this,” he ordered, and charged into the fray.

~~~

The wall of fire hissed and crackled so realistically in Aoshi's ears that it took all of his concentration to keep his body from flinching or reacting as he passed through it again, just as the shinobi surrounding Tetsunosuke and what he could only presume to be his family on the ground, reacted to Himura's presence. He ran fast and low, away from the shadows that the fire casted, stretching out his senses for anything that was out of place.

If he extinguished the flames, it would plunge this area into darkness, giving an advantage to the shinobi, for they operated and lived in the darkness. Therefore, his first target was whoever was summoning that creature. He blocked out the sounds of the snapping and popping flames, of the battle, and of the feelings of the powerful _ken-ki_ of both Himura and Okita, concentrating on hunting for an elusive prey.

Despite what Misao had stated, he could hear no chanting of the sort, but there was a slight shimmer in the _presence_ of something around the area. Quietly but quickly heading towards the presence, he carved a wide path around, alert for any ambush that could be potentially triggered and kept his senses alert, just in case another creature dared attack. He did not draw his kodachi out of their sheathe, keeping the weapon secured in one hand. Even at this distance from the firelight, any glint from the metal of the sword would give away his position.

The presence was faint, but fluctuating, which told him that it was a shinobi who had not mastered the technique of receding his or her own presence from the battlefield. He suddenly stopped as he heard a peal of laughter in the direction he was heading. Had he not tuned out all other extraneous noises, the laughter would not have been heard. Keeping his profile as low as possible, he looked in the direction of the laughter and slowly, his eyes started to pick out the outline of a singular dark-clothed individual, manipulating something with his hands, who was surprisingly _not_ dressed in the usual garments of a shinobi. There was, however, a dark head covering that the person was wearing, though in the dimness, he could not identify the person. The person had his gaze focused on the fire and what was going on beyond the ring, and therefore, Aoshi knew that the summoner's eyes were not going to be adjusted for the darkness.

With a quiet _snickt_ , he drew out his kodachi and held them low to the ground, almost cutting the dirt of the rice paddy path he was current sitting in the midst of. There were only two ways he could attack the person, both on the thin trail of the rice paddies. It didn't matter if the summoner's eyes were maladjusted – if he tried to approach directly though the actual paddy, he would be heard.

Flipping his blades to a back-hand grip, he chose the left route, and swiftly broke into a run, letting the soft dirt from the irrigation and days-earlier rain muffle his footsteps. Five steps away, he was just about to launch _Kaiten Kenbu_ when out of nowhere, five shinobi landed between him and his target, with only the glint of the metal on their various types of blades giving away their position. Before any of the five could strike, he had already flowed around them, utilizing the special combination technique of _Ryuusui no Ugoki_ and _Jisen Kenbu_ to cut down two of the five.

The other three broke into his defensive-offensive move and he brought his blades to bear, pushing back as one of them grunted and struck at him, while he lashed out with a foot to hook the same shinobi to the ground before turning quickly to the left and bringing his left blade and hand down to block a torso strike. With his right, he struck and met resistance with a bracer on the second shinobi's arm but used the momentum of his strike to lean in and jammed his right elbow into the attacker's face.

The second shinobi howled in pain for just a brief moment, stumbling back but Aoshi was quicker and moved in to slice the shinobi's head off with a quick application of _Goku Juuji_. Arcing back around, he smashed his right blade into the groin of the first shinobi on the ground who had attempted to get up before deflecting the third shinobi's attack with his left blade. Hooking the opponent's own short blade in a quick left wrist lock, he switched the left blade to his right hand and quickly killed the third shinobi with a precise thurst to the shinobi's neck. As the body fell to the ground, sliding out of the blade with ease, and he turned slightly and drove his second blade home into the second shinobi's throat, silencing the screams of agony.

As soon as he looked up, he mentally cursed himself; the person who had summoned was no longer there. While he had taken less than half-a-minute to kill all five ambushers, it had given that summoner enough time to completely escape without a trace. The light from the fire was also dimming as he looked around, seeing and sensing no other presences other than those in the middle of the paddy fields.

The shinobi whom Himura and Susumu had attacked were also gone, but Aoshi could see that there were more than a few bodies on the ground, some unconscious, some dead. The tall man that Okita had fought against was also gone and only the sounds of dying flames and summer insects were heard. That was broken by the faint shouts of Susumu, as he saw him scramble over to where Tetsunosuke was silently kneeling in apparent shock.

Taking his blades out of the dead body, he gave them a flick and held them loosely in his hands. In the dying firelight, he found the sheathe for his kodachi a ways away and sheathed them back into it, as he saw both Okita and Himura look quite guardedly around, well aware that an ambush could happen when the firelight finally died. He hurried over, making sure that his presence was felt and not hidden anymore, and also not bothering to stay on the path as his footsteps splashed in the paddies, joining Himura and Okita. The two swordsmen had their guard up when he approached, but it was Himura who lowered his sword slightly as he saw who it was. His concern was slightly elevated at just how exhausted both swordsmen looked. Himura looked just as tired as he did before he fought Yukishirou Enishi, while he could hear a distinct wheezing from Okita who looked slightly like death warmed over. The fight against shinobi and the creature had taken more out of the swordsmen than he had thought it would. That did not bode well.

“Where's Toshirou?!” Tetsunosuke suddenly said, snapping out of his shock, looking around wildly as Aoshi approached. “Where's my son?”

Ice crept over his stomach as he saw no one else except for the woman and the young girl that Susumu was trying to tend to. Tetsunosuke's wife and daughter were lying quite still and prone, but in the dimness, he could see their chests move slightly up and down, though he could see no other injury. Even though both the Battousai and former Shinsengumi captain had fanned out slightly to search for the child, he could see the shake of their heads. “He's not here,” he stated.

“We need stretchers and light,” Okita stated with a slight whistling sound in his voice. “I will bring the police from nearest substation and see if Toshirou-kun is anywhere near the outskirts of the city. Himura-san and Shinomori-san, search the area. Tetsu-kun, stay here and help Yamazaki-sensei.”

“Hurry!” was all that Susumu said as they sprung into action, hoping that nothing else would ambush them.

* * *

Oil lamps along the streets of Kyoto had already been lit for a while when a commotion was heard outside of the Aoiya. Saitou was already half-way out of his seat, about to investigate the noise when in came a police officer carrying the front end of a stretcher, with the back end being carried by Okita. The body lying on the stretcher was a woman, and trailing slightly behind, because of the narrow entrance way was Yamazaki. Ichimura entered immediately after Yamazaki, carrying a young child in his arms. Neither Shinomori or Himura Battousai followed, which caused him to frown slightly.

The commotion had been loud enough that it also brought both Tokio and Himura's wife from the back of the Aoiya. Saitou did not need any explanation to know that what the Battousai had stated earlier had come true, but he thought that Ichimura had two children, not one. Where was the other child?

“Himura-san and Shinomori-san are searching for the other child, Saitou-san,” Okita said, voice quite hoarse, as Ichimura's wife and child were laid on hastily cleared table tops as Yamazaki immediately got to work. Okita had also sat the numb-looking Ichimura down in one of the seats.

It didn't escape Saitou's notice that Kashiwazaki, having returned only minutes earlier from his own duties, had emerged from the kitchen, carrying a few bundles of cloth. Tokio and Himura's wife had dove into the kitchens to most likely fetch hot water. Even Matsumoto's son had come down from the second floor, dragging what looked to be like one of Yamazaki's medical bags and joined in to help Yamazaki and the other officer.

“A shadow-creature attacked them in the north-western rice paddy fields between the temple-school and the outskirts of the city,” Okita stated as the two of them stepped away from the commotion, leaving it to the others to help the injured.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Saitou saw another of the Aoiya's shinobi emerge from the kitchen, bearing a cup of hot tea and had set it in front of Ichimura. Moments later, Tokio and Himura's wife entered the main room, both carrying bowls of hot water. Saitou returned his full attention onto his comrade, noting that there was a certain hoarseness to his voice and that he looked paler than what was healthy, but there was still a resolute strength in Okita's eyes. Disease or no, he knew that his comrade would fight to his last breath, no matter what happened. He also knew that it was definitely not in his comrade's nature to allow such injuries to civilians happen, and thus could only assume that the creature had attacked even before anyone had gotten to the site.

“The creature took the form of Yoshida Toshimaro,” Okita continued saying. “No fog was summoned, but flames were, and even though they were clearly an illusion, we could see, feel, and hear the sounds associated with it. Shinomori-san found the person summoning one or both of the illusions, but it seemed that he was attacked and the person escaped. I believe that they took the boy with them, though both Shinomori-san and Himura-san are still searching for any signs.”

“A hostage and bargaining chip,” he stated, reaching into the cigarette pack that was in the front pocket of his uniform and withdrew a cigarette. However, he did not light it just yet, and held it in his fingers.

“Yes,” Okita said, nodding slightly, “As soon as I engaged the creature, shinobi numbering at about twelve showed up and attacked Tetsu-kun. Himura-san and the others arrived a few minutes after the illusion flames sprung up and knocked a few of the shinobi out. After the escape of whoever was summoning along with all remaining shinobi, we alerted the nearest officers. They came and took the four shinobi that were knocked out by Himura-san and locked up at the north-western substation. The rest were killed by either Shinomori-san or Yamazaki-sensei. Himura-san also told me--”

The doors to the Aoiya were slid open with a bang startling everyone and Saitou narrowed his eyes as he saw the one person he did not want to see right now, walk in, covered in so much grime that his normally upswept, broom-like hair was quite flat and ratty-looking. “Osaka's primary station and a few substations are gone,” former Juppongatana, Sawagejou Chou, stated.

Though there was almost no change in expression on his face as he absorbed the simple statement, he was barely aware that he had balled both hands into fists, crushing the cigarette that had been in his hands. He was, however, well aware that every person in the room, though they were busy in trying to save the lives of Ichimura Saya and her daughter, were listening in. “Same as here?” he asked, keeping his voice as even and as calm as possible.

“Hell no,” the paroled mercenary said, “They got blown up via cannon fire from those dumb fucks who commandeered a fucking thirty-six gun ship! As soon as Osaka's spymaster noticed that Kyoto's spymaster was cut off from the telegraphs, he alerted the chief. But then cannon fire hit. We were buried in that shithole for almost a day. It took almost another for what was left of the police force and the army the mayor managed to raise to secure the city and that ship. They fucking sent me to get help from Kyoto.”

Broomhead paused for a second as he accepted a mug of tea that had been put on the table in front of him by Kashiwazaki and downed the entire cup like it was a shot of sake. The mug thunked back down and the mercenary continued, saying, “I ran into a group of Kyoto policemen in between the cities, but they're all dead. If they carried anything on them, it's gone.” The man paused for a quick moment before gesturing in a circle with a hand, saying, “Judging from what happened here, it looks like neither city can help each other.”

“Who killed the officers?”

“Dunno. But the bodies were riddled with bullet holes.”

Saitou managed to calm himself enough to uncurl his fists as the crushed cigarette fell to the ground. Kyoto was already under enough strain as is, especially since the mayor of the city was among those injured and had not recovered enough to open his eyes, let alone move around. Now with news of Osaka's predicament and no help coming, at least not until Tokyo could rally and actually send forces, they were on their own. The presence of foreign agents had already been confirmed by Matsumoto earlier in the night, but to hear that several other policemen had died trying to bring help, by the bullets of what he could only assume were foreign agents based in Osaka worried him.

He pressed a couple of fingers to his right temple, massaging it slightly as he felt a slight headache start to come on. He had no choice, and though it was risky, there was nothing else he could do. None of the people at the Aoiya on his investigative team for the poisoning of the children were officially employed by the government. Yamazaki was needed here, and he knew that even if he asked Okita to go, his comrade was not in the best of health to undertake the potentially dangerous mission.

He took a couple of steps back as he dropped his arm and turned to take a fresh piece of paper from his table and jotted a few coded words down with an ink brush. All information he had sent with the police spy earlier had also been coded, but they were now gone. Briefly letting the ink dry, he folded up the paper and turned back to hand it to the ex-Juppongatana. However, he did not immediately let go of the paper and held it while saying, “Do whatever you need to, to get this to Tokyo. You have permission for 'weapons free'.”

“Heh, as the great Miburo police chief commands,” the mercenary sarcastically said, as Saitou let go of the paper.

He said nothing in reply and merely fished out another cigarette. Lighting it up, he took one drag from it and slowly blew the smoke out as his personal spy sauntered out of the restaurant-inn. He didn't personally trust Sawagejou Chou, but he trusted the man's instinct to live to fight another day to get that message to Tokyo, for he knew that the ex-Juppongatana was well aware of the ability of the Imperial forces to easily hunt him down. He turned his attention back to Okita, who had a concerned look on his face, either from what had just been said or from the fact that there was an unusually grave look on Yamazaki's face as the doctor continued to try to heal his two patients, he didn't know. It was not his immediate concern and he asked, “Did Battousai tell you who he thinks attacked Ichimura?”

“Yes,” Okita answered, nodding slightly. “Though it was I who killed Yoshida Toshimaro, not Tetsu-kun. We need to find that man and tell him.”

“Don't be stupid,” he retorted, “It's a little too late for that. Matsumoto was awake earlier and gave me some information. Tokyo confirmed that this is all linked together before we lost contact – the poisoning of the children, what you encountered at the herbalist's hut, everything. They're all linked to an ongoing national investigation undertaken by the entire Imperial spy network, and two of the masterminds behind this are Kitamura and a woman named Akesato.”

He saw a brief look of relief pass by Okita's expression when he mentioned the spymaster's name, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. However, it was replaced by puzzlement as Okita asked, “Back in the day, did you remember a woman by the name of Akesato at Shimabara?”

“The woman that Yamanami always spent time with?”

“Yes. Hers was a unique name. I remember that the day after Yamanami-san died, Akesato-san showed up at our headquarters, begging to see him. No one answered the door, and I heard her going away. No one had told her that Yamanami-san was dead, so I did. I also told her that I killed him with my own hands.”

Saitou could feel the corners of his lips tug downwards as he said, “We were told by Kondou that Yamanami committed seppuku and that you were his second. You ended his pain. How is that 'killing him with your own hands'?”

“Because he did not commit seppuku,” came the whisper from Okita that Saitou almost did not hear it. “Yamanami-san drew his sword on Hijikata-san, and to protect Hijikata-san, I drew mine and stabbed Yamanami-san just as he almost struck a blow. However, it was not a live blade that Yamanami-san had drawn, but a bamboo one. I had fatally injured Yamanami-san and thus Kondou-san ordered me to end his life so that he would not suffer too much.”

Saitou did not say anything for a few long moments as he carefully pieced together the facts. But those long moments passed and he said, “It does explain why Akesato disappeared from her matron's house immediately after, but if you're suggesting that this particular Akesato that Tokyo named is the same woman from long ago, there's not enough evidence to link it.”

He dropped the cigarette that had been held in between fingers since the first drag, disappointed that he didn't even get to smoke it further, for it was now almost at the butt. Squashing the end of it between the floor and his heel, he glanced over Okita's shoulder to see that Ichimura still hadn't moved from his shell-shocked state, and that Yamazaki and the others were still working on their patients. “There was a woman named Akesato that Shinomori and Takahashi were investigating. She used to own a western cookware shop down by the docks, though since the fire, we haven't been able to account for most of the residents there yet, including her and her staff. She's French and if her story is anything to go by, she was living here for a while and met her Japanese husband, but he died during the revolution.”

“Why were they investigating her?”

“Because there was some evidence that she or someone in her shop harbored the poison used on the children,” he stated. “But that evidence is gone, thanks to the fire.”

Okita nodded before asking, “Where are Takahashi-san and Misao-chan?”

“I've sent them to retrieve Ichimura Tatsunosuke and his wife,” he answered. “Due to his skills as a linguist, the government cannot afford to let Ichimura Tatsunosuke die. If there's any doubt of what Kitamura is capable of, then he's not going to listen to reason, even if you try to tell him that it was not the younger Ichimura's fault that night.”

“Then if you will allow me, Saitou-san, I would like to take care of this problem while you and the police concentrate on the national problem,” Okita said.

Saitou gave a humorless smile towards his comrade as he said, “A pack of wolves never separates whenever hunting, Okita. You of all people should know that.”

A strange faint smile that he had not seen since the early days of the Roshigumi appeared on his comrade's face, sending a slight chill down his spine. Though he was aware that both he and Okita were equally skilled and matched in swordsmanship, it had been an utter ruthlessness that Okita had possessed which had gotten him selected as First Unit Captain upon the commission of the Shinsengumi. He recognized that that smile was the smile of death. Slowly but surely, with everything that had happened, Okita was falling back into old habits and ways.

The hitokiri inside of Himura Battousai was never coming back – he knew that – but at least he could be satisfied that a wolf was returning home. The Wolves of Mibu were going to roam the streets once again.

* * *

Akesato could feel the beast beneath her falter as she urged the horse to gallop as quickly as it could towards the great and ancient city. With two of her four fellow agents dead by the hands of Kyoto police who had tracked them, along with several Fuuma shinobi that had accompanied them out of the city as soon as the explosives had gone off, she knew that they could no longer approach Tokyo. It would be up to foreign agents from Osaka, Nagoya, and other cities that had been affected in the same manner as Kyoto to get to Tokyo and complete the mission.

Kitamura was supposed to have taken care of all things Kyoto, allowing her and her fellow agents to get to Tokyo with no obstructions. However, with the killing of two agents, and the remaining three killing those five Kyoto policemen sent after them, she knew that the crazed man needed to be leashed. Her employers had hired her to do a job, and they had secretly hired the Fuuma to ensure that Kitamura was not in the know, due to Kitamura's close association with several high-ranking officials.

The man thought he controlled everything, including planning for Akesato and her cohorts' insertion into Tokyo, but it was not so, especially since she was the one who made up the notices from the 'foreign benefactors' to ensure that Kitamura did exactly what she wanted. Now with her presence not in Kyoto, things had gone to hell for her and her fellow agents. Kitamura's need for revenge at a premature time had completely ruined the plan.

What was supposed to be a simple job of inserting as many foreign agents into the Imperial palace and into high-leveled government offices to hold those in those offices hostage to do the western powers' bidding, would still happen, but Akesato had wanted to be there to see it happen. As soon as that had been completed, she would have gotten the necessary force to return to Kyoto to kill Saitou Hajime, Matsumoto Aya, and Yamazaki Susumu – if they had not already been killed by Kitamura and the Fuuma shinobi. She would have also then continued with the elimination of every single Shinsengumi member that were still alive after the war. Only then, would she had been satisfied and able to join Yamanami in the depths of hell.

Now it was not to be, and it incensed her greatly. One of her Fuuma shinobi had informed her that Kitamura had tried to indirectly attack Ichimura Tetsunosuke, and had managed to gravely wound both Ichimura's wife and daughter. She had immediately ordered the Fuuma shinobi to send a warning to Kitamura to break off the attack and had ordered the other Fuuma shinobi in Kitamura's group to stop what they were doing and to regroup.

She could imagine just how angry Kitamura might be, but it was time to show that pale-haired man who exactly was in charge here. For years she had been as submissive as possible whenever dealing with Kitamura, but now, it was no longer Kitamura's show. She had given him the chance at Hakodate to take his revenge, and he had failed. This time, failure at containing Kyoto was something she or her fellow foreign agents would not forgive.

Last she heard of Kitamura's second attempt at revenge was that help had come for Ichimura, but the Fuuma shinobi and Kitamura had escaped almost unscathed, leaving behind a few bodies and four unconscious comrades. They had also managed to take Ichimura's son hostage. She would be able to use that to her advantage, but first, the shinobi clan would have to kill the four held by the police – they could not have any loose ends.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I pissed off Saitou a little by continuously stacking the odds against him... oh well. He was trying to wrest control of this fic from me. Next chapter should be a little calmer than the roller coaster ride that we've been on for a while as everyone regroups. Thanks to all who've left comments and kudos so far!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Morning brought mostly silence around the Aoiya, and though it had been three days since the explosion, many of the patients who were temporarily housed at the Aoiya and other areas were still not fully recovered. Susumu had gone to those patients first, and though some of them had opened their eyes and tried to move, for the most part, the rest were still resting. It was now though, with the shops starting to open up that he was currently sitting across from Okita, conducting a checkup.

“Warm water seems to help alleviate the soreness, but the medication sometimes burns down my throat when I take it.”

“I can't cut back the dosage,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “It has to be that amount and no less to hopefully continue holding back the progression. It's also too early for me to tell if your disease has progressed. You said that after rest, you do feel better, right?”

“Yes,” Okita replied, but did not elaborate.

Susumu sighed before saying, “I would tell you to stop running around, but I know you're not going to listen to me.” His patient smiled at that comment before he continued, saying, “At least your coughing symptoms have not showed up yet, but I strongly urge you to not push yourself in this investigation. Symptoms or no, you're not at your full strength anymore, Okita-sensei. If you try to continue down this path, there will be a point in which I or your medication will not be able to help.”

The former First Unit captain's expression closed as soon as he heard those words, and he gave a small sigh. “Thank you,” Okita said, “I will take your words into consideration.”

Though they had known each other as doctor and patient for over a decade, and as comrades in the Shinsengumi before that, Susumu still found it odd that Okita still adhered to the traditions of old and bowed to him, as a thanks for what he had done. He bowed back and gathered his medical bag before the two of them stood up and left the room. Stepping out into the second floor hall, he saw Yuki carrying a tray full of mugs and small packets of medication. Some were empty and some were full – the boy had been going back and forth between rooms on the second floor, helping administer medication to those still bedridden by injuries sustained in the explosion.

The young boy had stopped next to a room and set the tray down before saying, “Okaasan, I'm coming in.” Yuki slid open the door but Susumu saw him stop short of entering and sensed something wrong. He quickly traveled down the hall to see what was the matter, even though he knew that the next patients that he was supposed to check up on was Tetsu's wife and daughter. Closely following him was Okita, and the two of them stopped before Yuki's mother's room as the boy slid the door further open.

Where Aya had been lying on a futon for the past days was empty. The room was spotlessly clean and organized, with books arranged quite neatly, along with a small dresser stacked in the corner. The futon, covering, and head rest were also not splayed on the tatami mat floor and had been folded up and put into storage. Where was Kyoto's spymaster?

Concerned, especially since Yuki had informed him early in the morning that Aya had continued speaking to Saitou after he, Himura, and Aoshi had left in the middle of yesterday's meeting, Susumu headed down the stairs. As soon as he cleared the threshold and made it half way down the stairs, he saw out in the restaurant portion of the Aoiya, the spymaster, sitting at the same table that Saitou had used as his own.

Wrapped in a bland, unpatterned summer yukata that covered most of her bandaged body, she was pouring over reports and looked up as the half-thunderous steps of Yuki clambering down the stairs was heard. “Okaasan!” Yuki admonished from the foot of the stairs, “You shouldn't be up. Yamazaki-sensei hasn't cleared you yet. You should be resting!”

“I'm fine,” he heard Aya say and indeed, just the tone of her voice indicated that she did sound much better than last night. However, her son was having none of it and clambered down the stairs, carrying a packet of medicine and a cup of warm water. He watched, partially amused as Yuki stubbornly placed both objects on the table and crossed his arms, waiting for her to take it. She ignored the mug and medicine for a while until Yuki started tapping his foot. Eventually though, she relented and took the medication before shooing him away.

“Impressive,” he said as the young boy climbed back up the stairs with a cheeky grin.

“Three winters ago, okaasan came down with a bad illness but refused to stop working,” Yuki said, picking up the tray. “I followed her around, annoying her until she gave up and took the medicine. It took me two days and nights for me to convince her to stop working so she could rest.”

Susumu nodded, impressed by the tenacity that the young boy displayed. He remembered that during the time he, his old friend Kai, and Aya had served in the Shinsengumi, she was one of the more stubborn of the patients he treated as a field medic. Almost all of the Shinsengumi members did not want to stop for any illness or injury – it was a miracle that he had not lost his patience in his treatment of them.

“Hey, Susumu!” he heard Aya call out, interrupting his reminiscence. “Himura said that he'll be back in a couple of hours. He and his wife have gone out with Shirojou and Masukami to go buy food.”

“Understood,” he answered, as he turned to go back up. Okita gave him a nod before passing both him and Yuki, going downstairs. As Yuki carried his tray back up to resume his duties in caring for the patients on the second floor, Susumu turned slightly to see the former Shinsengumi approach Aya. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but in the past days since the police station explosion, there seemed to be more than just a passing concern that Okita had displayed towards Aya. His concern lied more towards the fact that at anytime, Okita could die, and _if_ there was something between the swordsman and the spymaster, then heartbreak was something that Susumu knew there was no cure for.

As he climbed back up the stairs and headed towards his next patient's room, heartbreak was something he was clearly witnessing right now. Stopping in front of the door to his patient's room, he said, “Tetsu, I'm coming in.”

There was no answer and after a few moments, he slid the door open and entered. His friend was sitting near the head of the futon that Saya was lying on, crouched slightly with arms in his lap, staring at her still form. The only sign of life on Saya was the slow up and down motion of her chest. Saya and Tetsu's daughter was lying next to her mother, and was in the same state. Heartbreak was happening right in front of Susumu, and there was nothing he could do to ease Tetsu's pain.

He placed his bag near the door and approached the two patients, and still Tetsu did not move. Physically, he could find nothing wrong with either Saya or the girl, but they were not waking up and their pulse was quite weak and slow. Susumu was hesitant to prescribe medication for the unknown affliction that had seized the two patients. Acupuncture was something he could try, but to try it on a child was something he was not willing to do, for if he judged wrongly, then there was a chance the child could die. If what he tried went wrong on Saya, then there was a better chance he could reverse it and stop Saya from dying, since the adult body was more robust and a child's.

“Tetsu, I want to try acupuncture on your wife,” he stated, unfolding the thick cloth that was full of sterile, thin needles. “Do I have permission?”

There was no answer.

“Tetsu,” he said again, looking over to see the vacant, haunted expression still on his friend's face. It was as if he was carved from stone from last night and had not moved at all. It sent chills down his body for that vacant expression was eerily similar to the one he had displayed on the night of the Ikedaya Incident, before somehow snapping out of his funk. This time, however, he was no longer an impatient man, wanting his friend to man-up – he was a doctor with just enough patience to keep him from shaking Tetsu. “Please, Tetsu, answer me. I want to try acupuncture on your wife. Will you let me?”

“Save them, Susumu,” he heard his friend whisper after a few minutes of silence. “Please...save my family...”

* * *

Saitou could smell blood as soon stepped into the cell area with the door squeaking close behind him. Though oil lamps and torches lit the area, there were still dark shadows being cast in the cells. However, as he passed the first one that should have contained one of the four shinobi that were captured yesterday, all he saw was a dead body.

It was as if someone had taken a large blunt object and repeatedly smashed in the head of the shinobi until nothing remained except for a pulpy, bloody mess. The dead shinobi's blood had been splashed across the back of the cell, painting the wall red. Saitou plucked the nearest torch off of its wall scone and held it closer to the cell's bars, letting the firelight pan over the place. There seemed to be no sign of a struggle, as if the shinobi was sitting prone on the floor of the cell one minute and then ended up dead the next.

Withdrawing the torch, he walked down the short hall, peering into the other cells. Out of the other five cells, three of them were also occupied with dead shinobi – head smashed in the same fashion as the first one. Anger riding on the wave of irritation swept through him as he returned to the entrance and placed the torch back where it had been.

Letting the door slam close on his way out of the cell area, he saw more than a few officers at the substation jump in surprise. However, out in the main area, the last person he expected to see was already standing there, looking quite nonchalant and as if he was supposed to be there. Other officers within the man's vicinity had already edged away, noting that there was something about the man that exuded a dangerous atmosphere.

“There's nothing in the fields,” Shinomori said, turning slightly towards him as he approached. Saitou nodded, but before he could say anything, the former _Okashira_ said in a low voice, “I suspect that the temple-school may have some answers, but my investigation will not be able to be done until tonight. The priests there have already heard about what happened to Tetsunosuke's family and have temporarily halted all classes.”

He nodded, but did not say anything else and walked past Shinomori and out of the substation. Someone had killed the only lead he had in the investigation and he would not put it past that it had been one of those summoned creatures from the Fuuma shinobi. It was not only Ichimura's son being held hostage in the ancient city – Saitou knew that the people were being held hostage by fear, and he had no clear way to combat that.

He took out a cigarette and lit it up, inhaling deeply and letting the narcotic do its work as he walked down the busy streets of a sunny and warm morning in Kyoto. There was no base of operations that they could pinpoint Kitamura to, and with the hit-and-run tactics that the man was employing, Kyoto's forces were reacting, unable to be proactive in trying to take back their city and lives.

The wolf inside of him growled, wanting to rip apart the prey, and all he could do to sate its appetite was to tell it to wait as he had a plan. Eventually, the enemy would make a mistake, but it was no longer the time to react – it was time to take action and force Kitamura's plan for revenge to accelerate.

* * *

Misao reigned in the urge to sigh out loud at the look that Reika was giving her. However, that did not stop her from scratching the clothing she had been forced to change into upon the older shinobi's 'recommendation'. It was itchy and even though the heat of the day was not upon them yet, she could feel herself already sweating under it. Her throwing knives were all still tucked under the clothing and easily accessible, but now though, they did not stand out like sore thumbs in their shinobi outfits.

Reika raised a fist and knocked on the wooden door before saying out loud, “Pardon us! We're looking for Ichimura Tatsunosuke!”

With her sharp hearing, Misao could hear the shuffling of clothing and footsteps further into the modest house before hearing someone approach the entrance. The door slid open slightly and a tall man with spiky-looking brown-black hair peeked out. “I am he,” the man said, and Misao frowned slightly – there was absolutely no physical resemblance to the younger Ichimura....except for maybe around the chin and nose. In her opinion, the younger Ichimura looked more like Himura than he did his older brother, though that was mainly because both had unusually colored red-brown hair. Could this person really be Ichimura Tatsunosuke?

“Pardon us, sir,” Reika said, bowing slightly before Misao felt a hand land on her shoulder that felt more like an iron grip. She glanced over and got the message – she was to stay silent. Despite wanting to shrug off the hand and yell at Reika for treating her like a child, she did as she was told. Ichimura did not look happy to be disturbed, and if the younger Ichimura's temper (according to Aoshi) was anything to be told, then she did not want the elder Ichimura figuratively biting her head off.

“We were sent by Fujita Gorou of the Tokyo Police Force to take you and your wife into protective custody. There have been rumors that told us that an attempt on your life may be taken,” Reika continued, keeping her head low.

“I thought Fujita...no-Saitou Hajime transferred to Kyoto last year,” Ichimura said, sliding the door slightly towards the closed position, wary. “At least that was what the last government official that came by told me. Women are also not employed in any police force district so before I loose my patience and ask you to leave either by force or on your own, tell me who the hell are you.”

“An attempt was made on your brother's life, Ichimura-san,” Reika said, unfazed by the threat. “Obviously, it seems you know who Fujita-san is, so I will tell you straight. I am Takahashi Reika and this is Machimaki Misao, current _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu. Saitou sent us to bring you and your wife into protective custody in Kyoto.”

“Oniwabanshuu?” Ichimura stated, and Misao saw his eyes stray over to her, looking at her curiously. “I thought Shinomori Aoshi was the _Okashira_.”

“He retired,” she spoke up before Reika could say a word. “It's not common knowledge on who the _Okashira_ is unless you've had dealings with the Oniwabanshuu before. How did you know that?” How Ichimura Tatsunosuke knew of Aoshi puzzled her, but she was not going to let anyone sully the reputation of the man she loved. Despite those at the Aoiya still treating her like a child that needed to be coddled, she was well aware that not everyone had completely forgiven Aoshi for what he had done last year. She had read the body language of Reika when the former bodyguard shinobi had joined the investigative team, and it told her that Reika was one of those who still had not forgiven yet. It had also pained her to see that her aunt was also another of those, but she endured it and had taken Himura's advice last year to heart.

“Dear?” the voice of Ichimura's wife said from inside the house, “Is everything all right?”

Ichimura turned from them for a moment before saying, “Yes, everything is fine.”

“Well please invite them in, dear. It will become hot soon and we don't want our guests fainting from the heat, now.”

Misao saw the man sigh and from the stance through the crack in the door that she could see, it seemed that he did somewhat believe in their story, though he was still quite wary. After a moment, the door slid open some more and wordlessly, the elder Ichimura gestured for them to enter.

She stepped in first, and breathed in the fresh smell of pine wood embers and saw that Ichimura's wife was putting a kettle over the embers, warming up water for tea. Ichimura himself had slid the door closed and had walked over to grab a pair of sitting cushions and placed them on the opposite side of the cooking hearth. Wordlessly, she followed Reika and together, the two of them sat, facing both Ichimura and his wife. For a moment, neither side spoke up until Ichimura gave a heavy sigh.

“So, you stated that an assassination attempt was dealt to my brother?”

The accusatory tone was said with only a hint of anger, but it was the alarm in Ichimura's wife's eyes that caused Misao to be suspicious. The woman did gasp, but not in the way that Misao had expected such a kind of news to elicit a reaction to be. She thought that Ichimura's wife would actually fall over in shock, but instead, her hands merely flew to her mouth with the gasp of surprise.

“You're not surprised,” Reika stated in a calm tone, as Misao felt the shinobi's hand land on her arm in a vice-like manner. It was a signal to her to not even speak, and despite wanting to jump in and demand why Ichimura did not look surprised or that his wife was not even having a larger reaction than mild surprise, she obeyed the silent order. Long ago, both Ji-ya and Han'nya had taught her various positions that the Oniwabanshuu occupied during their service to the Shogun besides the usual spying and gathering of information. Most Oniwabanshuu had training in spying and information gathering and at least three-quarters of their forces knew how to blend in easily with disguises. However, there were a few who specialized in occupations such as assassinations, scouting, bodyguarding, poisoning, seduction, and infiltration.

Being assigned as a bodyguard, especially for a noble family was a rare duty, for she knew and understood that back then, shinobi were not the most widely appreciated or respected class of citizens. However, when the need called for it, and trained guardsmen were not enough as protection, noble families turned to hiring shinobi to protect them. Where even the most highly trained and skilled swordsman could not detect shinobi, a bodyguard shinobi could, and prevented assassinations of the person they protected by any means necessary. Very few noble houses went to this length, and it was all due to the class-associated stigma of having shinobi working for the family...along with the cost of hiring one.

Very few Oniwabanshuu-affiliated shinobi were specifically picked from a very young age to specialize in areas, and while Misao herself never specialized, she had heard that those in the Oniwabanshuu picked and trained as bodyguards were the most versatile and best of all of them. Rumor had it that even her grandfather, when he had been _Okashira_ , had asked the bodyguards for advice in some matters. In recent memory, before the fall of the Shogunate, Misao had only heard of three noble families that had requested bodyguard shinobi and that two of the three bodyguards had died in the line of duty. Their charges, however, had survived.

Just the fact that Reika was a former bodyguard was enough for Misao to listen and obey, never mind that her arm was actually _hurting_ from the grip that the woman was putting on it. She tried to shake her arm out, and a moment later, the woman's strong grip was released and she shook her arm slightly to try to alleviate the pain. Resisting the urge to glare at Reika, she returned her attention to the couple sitting across the hearth.

“No, I almost expected it to happen,” Ichimura said, eyes narrowing slightly in anger before returning to a more normal look. “My brother made a lot of enemies by staying in with the Shogunate forces until the Battle of Hakodate. Then he joined Saigo Takamori's rebellion. That does not make you many friends, especially in the government. I've already intervened several times on my brother's behalf in my talks with the government. We've also heard about what's happened to the children in Kyoto and with what the people around here are saying about an explosion at the primary police station in the city, I was expecting someone from the government to show up soon. What I didn't expect was that Oniwabanshuu shinobi showing up, especially the _Okashira_. You were on the Shogunate side during the revolution. What's caused you to side with the government again? I would have assumed that your intervention and help against Shishio Makoto was only because he threatened Kyoto.”

“Before we get into the details of what's happening in Kyoto, I want to know how you knew that Shinomori Aoshi was the _Okashira_ of the Onwabanshuu,” Reika said.

“I was Shinsengumi, Takahashi-san,” Ichimura said, knitting his hands on his lap together. “As was my brother, though I'm sure both of you know that. Yamazaki Susumu of the Oniwabanshuu was our primary shinobi spy. After the Ikedaya Incident, we had three others joining us. One of them was Shinomori Aoshi. As a bookkeeper for the Shinsengumi, I had to take inventory of all expenses, including those spent by the shinobi of the Shinsengumi, so I got to know Shinomori-san, since he was growing as fast as my brother had been and thus needed some constant changes of clothing altered for his height. I remember that around 1867 of the western reckoning, Shinomori-san was summoned up to Tokyo. My brother and a few other Shinsengumi were also summoned, but for different purposes. When they returned, Shinomori-san was not with them and my brother told me that Shinomori had become your _Okashira_.”

Misao could only gape at Ichimura as the news sunk in. She had thought that Aoshi served in the Tokyo region before being nominated and confirmed as _Okashira_. But to hear that he had served for around three years in the notorious group of swordsmen, was quite shocking. The earliest memory she had of Aoshi was when she was only a toddler, being held by Aoshi, while he had carried her around, showing her the colors of the autumn leaves around Edo Castle. It was her most cherished memory and she distinctly remembered that she had felt warm and safe in his arms. Everything after that was quite faded and a blur, though the most distinct one she had was when she was around five or six years old and Aoshi, along with Han'nya, Shikijou, Beshimi, Hyottoko, and other surviving Oniwabanshuu members arrived safely at Kyoto. She remembered that they had evacuated Edo only a month before, after getting most of her residents out of the advancing line of Imperial forces.

To think that Aoshi had honed his skills while serving as a spy for the Shinsengumi...it suddenly made sense as to why Aoshi was on familiar, though not friendly, terms with Saitou and Okita. It also told Misao why her love had a very concerned look on his face when Himura had mentioned that the younger Ichimura and his family were being targeted by an assassin. Considering that the younger Ichimura did not look older than Himura, she could assume that the younger Ichimura was only slightly older than Aoshi. Aoshi was always naturally quiet, even when amongst just the Oniwabanshuu, but Misao knew that concerned look meant that Aoshi and the younger Ichimura had possibly been friends during their time in the Shinsengumi.

“Ah,” was all Reika said.

Warning or no, Misao was curious and before Reika could say anything else, she interrupted and asked, “Were Aoshi-sama and your brother friends during their time in the Shinsengumi?”

“I don't remember,” Ichimura replied, scratching the back of his head. “Honestly, my memories of those times are something I don't like to think about. It was more like a nightmare for me back then, so I would appreciate it if you don't ask me anymore of those kinds of questions.”

“Oh,” Misao answered, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up as she looked slightly down.

“I apologize, Ichimura-san,” Reika said, and Misao could feel her glaring at her for a moment before looking back towards Ichimura, “but what I am about to ask you may pertain to those memories. You said that you've intervened on the behalf of your brother before, and expected an attempt on his life, but this attempt has implications with the security of the country.”

“What has my brother done this time?” Ichimura asked, looking quite annoyed and slightly testy as his wife put a calming hand on his arm.

“According to our reports, a man named Kitamura Suzu is after your brother and his family's lives. This man is also connected to the poisonings in Kyoto and has already killed several children. An adult was also killed in a separate incident. Because of your brother and his family being targeted, the government has deemed it necessary for you and your wife to come with us to be taken under protective custody.”

“We're not going,” Ichimura said after a moment's pause, folding his arms across his chest.

“What?!” Misao immediately said, as her eyes flicked between Ichimura and his wife, both of whom had solemn looks on their face. Of all the things, she would have thought that at least the woman would protest, but it looked as if she was in solidarity with her husband. “Why?”

“My brother and I,” Ichimura began, “have met Kitamura Suzu before. It was during the revolution. I only know of him in passing, but my brother became friends with him. However, I heard after the Ikedaya Incident, Kitamura had disappeared.”

“That's because Kitamura thought your brother killed Yoshida Toshimaro at Ikedaya. Kitamura was Yoshida Toshimaro's page,” Reika said as Misao frowned, absorbing the elder Ichimura's answer. She couldn't wrap her head around the concept of just how the younger Ichimura had become friends with Kitamura, especially since both were on opposite sides during the revolution – surely it couldn't have happened.

“My brother did not kill anyone at Ikedaya,” Ichimura said, anger coloring his tone as his eyes narrowed slightly. “Kondou- _kyoukuchou_ told me that!”

“No, he did not kill anyone,” Reika answered, seemingly unfazed by Ichimura's outburst. “It was the First Unit Captain who killed Yoshida. However, Kitamura does not know that, and thus has targeted your brother and his family for his revenge.”

“Then how the hell is Kitamura associated with all those children being poisoned if he's targeting my brother for his revenge?! Because I'm sure that no child that young could have poisoned an entire village when he was eight years old!”

“What?” Misao heard the older shinobi hiss.

“Wait,” she spoke up, slapping a hand onto the ground as she leaned slightly forward, watching for any signs of deception in Ichimura or his wife's faces. “You've seen the poisonings before?”

Ichimura unfolded his arms and raised a hand to his face, leaning slightly against it for a moment before accepting the mug of tea in the other hand from his wife. As his wife passed out mugs to both Reika and Misao who accepted them, Ichimura removed his hand from his face and took a sip of the tea. Setting it down, he folded his hands back in his lap and said, “My brother and Kitamura are the same age, so this happened when my brother was eight...”

* * *

_Past: Early Autumn, 1857_

 

“Tetsu...stop taking my stuff,” Tatsu complained as he finished writing his set of kanji and was about to rest his ink brush against the ink stone, only to see that his ink stone was missing from its usual spot on the small desk.

His little brother said nothing except to give him a silly grin and with a sigh, he looked over towards Mother, silently imploring her to tell Tetsu to return his ink stone. Their mother merely glanced up from her stitching and gave a smile, but that smile was immediately wiped from her face as heavy, but hurried footsteps were heard outside of the room and the door suddenly slid open. Tatsu gave a start at just how grave of an expression their father had on his face as he slid the door closed and sat. Even Tetsu, for all of his rambunctious ways, had realized that this was unusual and not good.

“Dear, what's happened?” Mother asked.

“Some passerbys just told me that there's been an outbreak of cholera on the other side of the mountain at the village where your sister lives,” Father replied, running a hand over his stubble on his chin. “I'm going to take Tatsunosuke with me to search for your sister and her family and get them out of there before they fall ill.”

“What do you need?”

“Water skins and some food. We're going to be traveling fast and light. Can you please tell the temple-school teacher that Tatsunosuke will make up his work when he returns?”

“I will,” Mother replied, nodding, though Tatsu could see the fear in her eyes. He remembered meeting his aunt a few years ago, when Tetsu was still a toddler. His aunt had a child around the same age as Tetsu, and the two boys had nearly the same identical tufts of reddish-brown hair. Father had joked and said that the two toddlers could almost pass as twin brothers. Tatsu mostly remembered the two toddlers as nuisances back then.

“Can I come too?” Tetsu asked, curious as to what was going on.

The grave look disappeared for a moment from their father's face as he knelt down and placed a hand on Tetsu's head, ruffling his hair. “No, Tetsunosuke. Your mother needs you here for help. Be a _good boy_ and make sure that we have a nice warm meal for everyone when we return.”

“Hai, otousan!”

“ _Papa_ , Tetsunosuke. Call me _papa_.”

“ _Papa_!”

“What do you need me to do, otousan?” he asked as his brother laughed at the foreign word.

“Get two sturdy walking sticks from our woodpile and meet me out front, Tatsu.”

He complied and hurried out to gather the sticks. Not even a half-hour later, the two of them were ready to go. Tatsu had heard of the disease known as cholera before, but knew very little about it, other than it spread fast. Considering that it was past midday, and the village where his mother's sister and their family lived in was small and on the wayside of the main road that cut through the mountain, he hoped that they were not too late to save them.

~~~

“It took us a few days to get to the village,” Misao heard Ichimura say. “I'm actually glad that our father did not take Tetsu along, because when we arrived, we were too late.”

~~~

The eerily quiet of the village sent chills down Tatsu's spine as he and his father cautiously walked the main path into the area. Though there were the caws of crows that filled the air with their calls for food, not another sound was heard. Several doors to houses were already opened, and with each one, Tatsu had seen dead bodies. Some of the deceased looked quite peaceful, as if almost sleeping while others had mouths opened in agonizing expressions, but they all had one common thing – blue-black lips.

“Come on,” he heard his father quietly say as his father took his hand and led him, presumably, towards where Mother's sister and her family lived.

“Otousan,” he said, pointing to the ground, “there's track marks. Do you think obasan and the others left?”

“Maybe,” his father gruffly said.

It took them a few minutes to climb up the small hill to get to where the house was, and when they arrived, the door was already opened like the rest. However, Tatsu watched as his father approached and after a moment, joined him. Stepping gingerly in, he could hear his own shuffling footsteps echo unnaturally on the straw-mat floor. It was in the back-most room that he and his father found the bodies of two adults.

Mother's sister and brother-in-law were dead, and though both were tucked under blankets, looking as if they had died in their sleep, Tatsu could smell their already decomposing bodies and nearly gagged. His father immediately pushed him back and out of the room and though he stumbled a bit, he understood the intent. He did another search of the house and could not find any sign of his cousin.

He didn't have to wait long outside for his father and when his father did emerge, he saw him carrying a small flint and starter. His father silently placed a bale of hay near the corner of the house, and he watched as his father struck the flint several times before getting a spark of fire to go. As Father stepped back and laid a hand on his shoulder, Tatsu heard him say, “They're in a better place now.”

“I think Shinta may have been taken by whoever made these tracks, otousan,” he said as he watched the fire lick the straw rooftop of the house and the blaze grow. “Maybe we should follow them.”

“You're right,” Father replied, steering him back towards the road. “You're going to grow up as a very _smart_ man, Tatsunosuke.”

With the house on fire behind him, and spreading towards others clustered in the area, the two of them made their way down and started towards the south, following the cart tracks, hoping that there were survivors from the village that they could find. Tatsu held on to that small sliver of hope – dead children of the village had the same symptoms as their parents, but his cousin was missing, which meant that perhaps, he managed to survive and was picked up by some passerbys.

It was in the middle of their search and following the cart tracks that they ran into a tall, but thin-looking man wearing a dark-colored autumn yukata and a rice-picker's hat that shielded most of his face. The man also carried a sword with him. He was crouched on the side of the road, seemingly examining the tracks made and looked up as the two of them approached.

“Hello, stranger-san,” Father greeted as the tall man stood up.

“Hello,” the stranger greeted quite curtly.

“Did you also come from the village just north of here?”

“Yes,” the stranger answered, and Tatsu couldn't help but shiver slightly at just how odd of a feeling he was getting from being so close to the person. As discreetly as possible, he stepped away, feigning a crouch, as if examining the cart tracks in a similar fashion as the stranger had done just a moment earlier. “I heard about what happened in the village and wanted to rescue my brother and his family. Unfortunately, all but one are are dead and all I could find was these tracks. Their eldest daughter wasn't at the village.”

“Same for us, stranger-san,” Tatsu heard his father say and looked up to see that his father had stuck out a hand in greeting. It was a western kind of greeting that he adopted and used all the time, and the stranger's reaction was like most others – confusion. After a few awkward moments, he heard his father laugh slightly before withdrawing the hand, saying, “Sorry, I'm used to greeting everyone that way. One of my friends taught it to me, saying that westerners use this kind of greeting whenever introducing themselves.” Tatsu saw his father give a hasty bow before saying, “I apologize. You can call me Ichimura.”

The stranger nodded but did not introduce himself and said, “Since we are hoping for the same outcome, let us continue following the tracks.”

“Right.”

While his father and the stranger took the lead, Tatsu fell behind, deliberately putting enough space between him and the stranger, until the unease he felt in his stomach was somewhat abated. There was something about the tall man with dark hair that he didn't like, and even though his father showed no signs of being afraid, Tatsu could not bring himself to feel as brave as he did.

They followed the tracks until they came to a field, full of broken crates, with the cart ruined and in pieces. Beyond the crates, spilled goods, and cart was a forest of crosses tied together with twine, pieces of cloth, and rope. Small mounds accompanied each cross and there were three distinct graves marked with rocks that looked as if something had been poured on them recently.

“Whatever happened here, they're all dead,” Father stated as Tatsu felt despair clutch at his heart. They would not have any good news to bring back to Mother. “Stranger-san, though I did not catch your name, I'm sorry for your loss. I also wanted to let you know that we started burning the village to send the spirits of all of those who died to Enma.”

There was a moment's hesitation before the stranger said, “Thank you. I doubt that we will meet again, but if we do, you can call me Yoshida.”

“Otousan,” Tatsu spoke up, “let's go. Okaasan will want to know and she'll be worrying about us. Shinta and his family are now at peace.” His father silently nodded and without another word, left, taking up Tatsu's hand as they slowly walked away.

* * *

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

“Yoshida?”

Misao saw Ichimura shrug slightly as he said, “I know what you might be thinking, but I really don't know if that man was the same Yoshida Toshimaro as the Shinsengumi described. I didn't get to see the dead man's body after Ikedaya. All I know is that back then, that man gave me a very bad feeling. I tried talking to my father about it, but he didn't want to talk about it. We told Mother what happened, but after that, I hadn't seen or heard of such symptoms of what I thought was a disease until now.”

“It's a western-imported poison, Ichimura-san,” Reika supplied. “If that man your father introduced himself to was indeed Yoshida, then for all intents and purposes, he would've had ample justification to push back against the less extremists people within the Ishinshishi. However, if his page, Kitamura was that devoted, then why would his page go against the ideals of his master?”

“Our parents were killed by such extremists, though it was Tetsu who lived through that, not me, so I wouldn't know who exactly killed them,” Ichimura said. “Your guess is as good as mine, since I do not know Kitamura in a personal fashion. That's a question for my brother.”

An idea suddenly struck Misao as she slapped a fist into an open palm, saying, “I got it! What if Yoshida was trying to use that poison as leverage to get others in the Ishinshishi who were not professing extreme _sonno joi_ as he did? I mean, we all know that they were trying to burn down Kyoto when they were meeting at Ikedaya – so it shouldn't be far-fetched to think that Yoshida might want an option that he could threaten others with.”

“You may be right, but we're not here to debate points,” Reika said, steering the topic back to the reason why the two of them were here in the first place. “Why will you not go with us, Ichimura?”

“Kyoto is a mess right now,” Ichimura stated after taking another sip of his tea. “There's already enough burden on the police force there to keep order and peace. On top of that, you have some madman threatening the lives of children, along with my brother and his family. There might be safety in numbers, but I don't think that we'll be safer there than we are here. We'll just be easier targets for Kitamura if we go to Kyoto.”

“The villagers around here also take good care of us,” Ichimura's wife spoke up. “They won't let anything happen to us. The two of you look strong and able, and with everything going on in Kyoto, they'll need your help. Please, don't worry about us.”

Misao glanced over to see Reika sigh and for a moment, she was afraid that the older woman was going to press the issue. Though she understood that they needed to protect these two people, it still stung her pride that she had to obey orders from Saitou of all people. Even her aunt had insisted on the obedience, and she did not want to lose the freedom that the Oniwabanshuu had in the own protection of the city.

She wanted to fight side-by-side with her love, Aoshi.

“Misao,” Reika said after a few moments, “get back to the city as fast as you can. Tell Saitou that I'll be staying here as their bodyguard until this is over. As _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu, it is your duty to do whatever you can to protect Kyoto.”

“Will do!” she said, scrambling up, glad that the older woman understood her heart.

“There's a stable a few houses down the road, Machimaki-san,” Ichimura said. “They owe me a few favors, so tell them I sent you and that you need the fastest horse they have.”

* * *

_Past: Early Autumn, 1857_

 

It was foliage and the fact that he had diminished his presence as much as possible to keep himself from being detected that Hiko Seijurou stayed his hand and watched as the man with the facial hair briefly conversed with the man dressed in dark clothing and a rice-picker's hat. After the man and his son left the grave site that Kenshin had built with his own two hands, he contemplated action, but ultimately decided against it. He couldn't see or sense them, but he knew that there were shinobi all around the area.

Those servants of the shadows had followed the dark-clothed man since he had stopped by Kenshin's old village, seemingly examining the bodies. That man had come from the valleys below and he had not arrived alone. From afar, Hiko had observed the man and some of the shinobi taking notes and though he could not hear their discussions, he saw packets and items being exchanged. Something about the villagers and the way those people had behaved in their examination of the deceased made him uneasy – as if the dark-clothed man and his shadow associates had caused the disease that had swept through the village at an alarming rate.

However, the concerns of those living below the mountain were not entirely his duty, for the revolution had already begun with the arrival of the black ships, and he wanted to stay as far out of it as possible. His instincts told him that if he struck now, he would be dragging not only himself, but the young boy he had rescued into the storm. It was better for him to wait it out until the new era could begin and the peace could be kept with his sword style.

Frowning, he glanced back to see Kenshin sleeping peacefully against the root of a large tree that had just started to change colors. He had heard the other man's son mention 'Shinta' and inferred that the two were his apprentice's relation, but to hand Kenshin back to family was dangerous. There was no telling what or if the dark-clothed man and his associates would do to other villages.

If he could save just one person in this infernal world, then it would have to be his apprentice.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the Rurouni Kenshin anime when it first came out back in the late 90's...and when I discovered PMK about 10 years after that (did not get to see or read PM/PMK when it first came out), I held on to the wild theory that perhaps Kenshin, Tetsu, and Tatsu were related. For this particular story, I've proposed that their related on their mothers' side... but Tatsu told the story of trying to find Shinta to the wrong people - those who have no clue that Kenshin is Shinta. It remains to be said if Kenshin will find out about his familial relationship to the Ichimura family.
> 
> In other news, the roller coaster begins again as Saitou enacts his plan to draw the enemies out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

The sound of an open palm hitting flesh echoed through the cavern, but it was not Suzu who had struck Akesato, but rather Akesato who had. Two shinobi had held down the pale-haired man after she and her two fellow agents had entered the cavern that he and the remaining shinobi under his command had retreated to in the shadow of Arashiyama. Well hidden and far away from even the most seldom used paths around the mountain, it had been the shinobi under Suzu's command who had dragged the pale-haired man back after his attempted attack on Ichimura Tetsunosuke and his family had attracted unwanted reinforcements.

Akesato needed only one look at Suzu to know that the man had protested quite physically and vocally and that his supposedly loyal-to-him shinobi had turned on him and knocked him out for a while. Fury shone in his eyes, but he did not utter a sound in response to her slap.

Though she was not satisfied with just hitting Suzu, considering what she had mentally and physically gone through, throughout the years that she had been working with him, she knew that she would have to be satisfied with the fact that at least the Fuuma shinobi that her employers had hired were truly loyal to her and not to him. If it were not for his connections and secrets that he had spilled about the government, along with his extensive research into resurrecting a supposedly long-lost talent of the Fuuma clansmen, she would have killed him the day they had reunited after Ikedaya. Only three other Fuuma clansmen besides the self-taught ability of Suzu could summon creatures that preyed on their victims' fear.

Other shinobi had taken the long years since Ikedaya, under Suzu's guidance, to develop ancient skills of old, while Akesato and her people had laid the foundation for the destabilization of the government to enable western powers to intervene and control as they controlled China. They had been extremely lucky that Himura Battousai had not killed one of their summoners when Suzu had taken a contingent of shinobi to go kill the herbalist and attempt to abduct the wife.

Now all that they had done in Kyoto, one of the key cities that her employers had said needed to be completely secured, had almost been undone.

“Let him go,” she ordered her shinobi. She watched him shake his arms out, the only sign he gave of his discomfort. She knew that the painful grip the two shinobi had almost wrenched his arms from his shoulders, but his pride prevented him from doing anything further to alleviate the pain. Taking a few steps back, she settled herself on a rock perch, watching with a half-amused smile as he pinned her with a furious glare.

“Our employers gave you one simple task, Kitamura,” she stated, drawing a throwing knife out of the hidden pockets in her dark outfit. Flipping the knife end over end, firelight from the pit near them reflected off the metal, giving it a deadly but graceful look. “It was to silence Kyoto first, before taking your revenge.”

She glanced over at where the remaining two agents that her employers had assigned to this ancient city were sitting next to the fire, hunched over but paying attention to the exchange. The young boy that Suzu had taken hostage was gagged, hog-tied, and curled on the ground, in between the two agents, fearfully looking everywhere. When her eyes returned to Suzu, she noted that he had not looked over towards the agents or the boy, and had remained resolutely looking ahead.

She flipped the knife again, before drawing the tip of the blade along the palm of her other hand, but not putting enough pressure for the edge to pierce her skin and draw blood. “At least five police officers escaped,” she said. “Two of my people are dead. There might be more after us, but I've been hearing rumors that others in our employer's pay may have encountered the same fate as the two.”

She threw the knife at Suzu, missing his ear by a hair as the knife thunked on the ground behind him. “Since you have treated me so _kindly_ in the past,” she said, casually rising from her perch and approached the man., “I'll grant you a chance to redeem yourself before answering for your actions to our employers. They have received word from other agents and are arriving from their embassy in China soon. I will grant you your revenge by luring Ichimura and other key people out of the city. Ichimura will have a particular document in his possession that I want. However, you will not have any shinobi to back you up, because when Kyoto is emptied of her protectors, I will be attacking – finishing up what you should have done.”

She crouched before him, using a finger to lift his chin up so that they were eye to eye, before continuing to say, “If you so happen to survive that exchange, you will bring that document to me and help me secure the city, or I will send not only my two agents, but also the entire clan upon you. If you run away, I will send the clan after you. If Ichimura does not die, I will send the clan after you. If the other protectors outside of the city survive, I will send the clan after you.”

Dropping the finger, she stood back up and looked down, disdain filling her voice, as she said, “Your only choices are either death or to kill them all. If you kill them all and give me the list, I will let you go and tell my employers that you have died. I will not have my agents or the clan pursue you, and you may live out the rest of your miserable life in whatever hell hole you call home. Do you understand?”

“My master said that I gave you the secrets to your success,” Suzu said, almost laughing out his words. “If you kill me, more secrets will die, and the Fuuma will never know their true heritage.”

She glanced over at the shinobi crouched or sitting on the cavern floor. Their glittering black eyes told her nothing, but she knew that it was money, not a lost heritage that they were after. The clan had all been wiped out during the revolution, and even if Suzu claimed to have found ancient documents that spoke of the legacy of the clan, survival came first. To survive, one had to give up their pride and be at the mercy of men who could help them survive.

Shinomori Aoshi of the Oniwabanshuu and the other shinobi of that same group who had followed him after the end of the revolution initially had the same philosophy, before Shinomori's obsession with snatching the title of 'strongest' had led him astray. Many of the old ways had been destroyed and that had left many formerly affluent and skillful people poor and starving. Akesato had tracked Shinomori after the war, but he had not been considered much of a threat back then by her employers.

“They're surviving,” she answered, not giving in to the madness that had consumed Suzu since the death of Yoshida. “Will you?”

The pale-haired man was silent for a few long moments that was punctuated by the crackle and pop of the fire consuming wood. “If I am to complete my revenge against Ichimura Tetsunosuke, then I will first need some time with his son before attempting a hostage-information exchange,” Suzu said. “Master also says that our numbers are much too small for an all-out attack on Kyoto. We need more shinobi and explosives.”

“We have more than enough, especially with the four of you able to summon creatures and several more who have the ability to summon that fog,” she countered. “But you are right about preparation, no thanks to your incompetence. I will give you three days to prepare as soon as I deliver the message to Ichimura.” Even though she didn't feel like it, it was Ichimura that drove Suzu to be the way he was, and thus, she allowed him one small concession to the agreement, asking, “Do you have a preference on where to hold the exchange?”

“I do.”

* * *

Kenshin winced slightly as he was bopped on the head by the clearly irate-looking Kaoru. There was no force behind her fist, but still, he knew that she was not happy with what he had suggested. “I'm only pregnant, Kenshin,” she said, “not incapacitated.”

“Maa maa, Kaoru,” he said, hoping to appease his wife's anger.

“I'm sure he just meant well, Kaoru-san,” Masukami spoke up in his defense as the four of them; him, Kaoru, Masukami, and Shiroujou, walked along the side of the road, each carrying a basket of ingredients and food back to the Aoiya. “Besides, with everything going on, it would be better if you stayed here. Osaka seems dangerous right now, even if you're trying to take the ferry back to Tokyo.”

Kenshin sighed as his wife gave him a triumphant look, but he kept his concerns about Osaka's security to himself. After Saitou had told all of them on what had happened in Osaka, he hoped that Chou would be able to make it to Tokyo before more got hurt in this incident. In his opinion, the fact that Osaka was able to raise a small army with the mayor of Osaka's guidance gave him more sense of safety than Kyoto, which only had the police force to guard them. It was not to say that Kyoto's police force was weaker than the army, but there was a better presence of law and order in Osaka than in Kyoto. The police force was already hard-pressed to keep order in Kyoto, and he – he felt a rather large degree of responsibility for what had happened to Ichimura and his family.

He had the chance so long ago to stop Kitamura, to warn Katsura about Kitamura, but he didn't take it. His own grief for the loss of Tomoe had wrapped around him, muddling his senses, his feelings, and his heart. Had he been more aware, more focused, he would have seen just how much of a threat Kitamura was, especially after he had found out why Kitamura sought revenge. Though it was dissimilar to Yukishirou Enishi's revenge for the death of Tomoe, Kitamura was putting Ichimura through a long, drawn-out emotional torture with the injuring of his wife Saya and their daughter. Added to that was the fact that Ichimura's son was missing...potentially taken hostage by Kitamura.

At least Enishi had deigned to give him, Kenshin, a quick route to despair with the supposed murder of Kaoru last summer. It was only with the persistence of Aoshi that that despairing route had been mercifully cut short, but not without its consequences. Those days and nights that he spent at the Village of the Fallen still haunted his dreams, and even though each person was different, he had taken a peek into Ichimura's room early in the morning and saw that same despair on the man's face.

His friends and family were being attacked, and for their sake and the sake of the new generation, he stayed to defend them.

“Ah, home sweet home,” Masukami's voice brought him out of his musings as he returned his attention to the present and saw the familiar front entrance of the Aoiya a small ways down the road. The sun was setting fast and most people were already either home or queuing at open restaurants for an evening meal, though none queued at the Aoiya. “At least we still have enough sacks of rice--”

The kunoichi abruptly halted, as did the three of them, and stopped talking upon seeing Saitou exit the Aoiya. Following closely was Okita, who had a withdrawn look on his face. Where the two were going, he didn't ask, but knew that Saitou had been taking daily patrols of the streets each day since the aftermath of the explosion. The times varied, but Kenshin knew that it lifted the morale of the officers on the streets to see their temporary chief in the same situation as they were in and also willing to take the same risks.

The four of them entered the Aoiya, and he felt an immediate wave of sadness in the area. Everyone at the Aoiya, from Kashiwazaki-san who seemed to almost be mindlessly wiping the same part of a table for the better part of a minute, to Okita's apprentice, Yuki, had a melancholic look on their faces. What had happened?

“You've returned,” Tokio's voice startled him out of his observations as he saw the graceful woman step out from the kitchens. Sorrow was reflected in her eyes as she approached them, saying, “Ichimura-san's daughter, Kanako, passed away early this afternoon.”

“Oh no,” he heard Kaoru whisper from beside him.

He glanced over to see that she wanted to say more, but refrained from doing so. If what was happening was not already personal enough, then the death of a young innocent girl made him angrier, overriding the wave of sadness. Too much blood had already been spilled, but he could not answer the question of how much more until the nightmare would end.

“What about Saya?” Kaoru asked as she placed the basket of food she had been holding down on one of the tables. “Is she awake? Does she know?”

Tokio shook her head as she answered, saying, “She's still not waking up. Yamazaki-sensei has tried everything he knows, but only time will tell. Please do not go to Ichimura-san's room right now; he does not want to be disturbed.”

Kenshin set his own basket of food down and gently took his wife by the shoulders, holding her as she sniffled. Looking up at Saitou's wife, he asked, “Have they buried Kanako-chan yet?”

“Yes,” Tokio said, shaking her head slightly. “I can show you tomorrow where her grave site is so that you may be able to pay your respects.” Uncomfortable silence filled their air for a few moments before Tokio said, “Yamazaki-sensei asked me to let you know, Himura-san that he will talk to you tomorrow. He is currently helping other doctors around the area with their patients.”

“Thank you, Tokio-dono,” he said, nodding. He knew from the message passed onto him by a pigeon that had landed on Shiroujou's head that Aoshi was going to investigate the temple-school tonight, and had requested him, Kenshin, to help. That in itself was unusual, but with everything that had happened, since he knew Kitamura better than Aoshi did, he would have a better sense of tracking and hoping that they could find out how Ichimura Saya and her children had been ambushed.

It was a step in the direction for him to start rectifying a mistake that should have been prevented long ago.

* * *

“Saitou.”

He stopped at the mention of his name, but did not turn around. Instead, he waited, hands hanging loose at his side, letting the corner of his eyes take in the passing traffic. The sun had already set, but was still casting the faint glow through the sky, giving oil lamp lighters enough time to light the street lamps before it got too dark. May people were still on the streets, though it was mostly people closing shop.

It was his comrade's quiet, yet commanding tone that would have sent lesser men scrambling for cover that had stopped him, never mind that both he and Okita had been silently walking the streets of Kyoto on a patrol route for the better part of an hour. There had been nothing in his comrade's expression or stance to suggest anger, but that one word, one mention of his name, betrayed the cold anger that Okita felt towards him.

The lack of honorifics also told him that Okita was not going to let the matter drop, and after a moment, he turned around. There was again, nothing on Okita's face to express his anger, and like usual, he could get no solid reading though just the man's stance. He did, however, infer from that single statement of his name, know that his comrade knew what had been done. Okita was not happy, and neither was he, but it was for different reasons relating to Ichimura.

“The less targets we give that bastard, the better,” he simply stated, resisting the urge to pull out a cigarette and smoke it. It was a facade he knew that Okita would see through quite easily, and he wasn't about to give his comrade the satisfaction to see his irritation.

“That is his _daughter_ , Saitou,” Okita stated. “Tetsu-kun is not like us. He does not have the heart of a demon. He cannot separate himself from emotions. You are breaking him even further.”

“Did you know that the only reason why he joined Saigo Takamori was because he wanted to die? He tried to stay at Hakodate and was sent away instead,” he said, watching as Okita's expression shifted slightly to a more stony look. “Hijikata sent him away and by doing that, Ichimura's will to live broke. However, he didn't even have the courage to commit seppuku at Shiroyama.”

“So you saved him, and sent him back to his family,” Okita finished up before shaking his head slightly.

“Not initially, no,” he said. “We had orders to stop Takamori by any means necessary. His army was more armed with western weaponry than the Imperial Army. We had the numbers for a long siege, but it would have resulted in too many casualties. To alleviate that, we gathered all of our best marksmen and forced them out into the battlefield by killing their people from a distance. When they charged us, our marksmen reinforced the rifle lines before they ran into bayonet range. It was your woman who notified me that she had shot Ichimura. I found him on the field after Takamori and his troops retreated behind the castle walls. It was your woman who saved him. She could have easily killed him, but she didn't. I only took him to the medical tents and sent him on his way back to Kyoto.”

A flinty look appeared in Okita's eyes as he clenched his jaw for a moment before saying, “Aya may have shot him, but it was you, who sent him away before the Imperial Army could capture him and hold him accountable for his actions against the government. You sent a broken man back to his family, expecting his wife, who probably has tried for so long to mend him, to repair him again?” Before Saitou could interject, Okita took one step forward, silencing him, saying, “For the sake of protecting Kyoto, I will keep your secrets, Saitou, until Kitamura is defeated.”

“You should send your apprentice away, Okita,” he said in the momentary silence that followed the unspoken warning that his comrade had leveled. “He is more skilled than that brat of a student who studies Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, but not enough to prevent himself from being another potential hostage.”

“Any person we know and care about can be used as hostages against us,” Okita pointed out. “But their liability can also be used as an asset to whatever your plan is, Saitou-san.”

Ah, the honorific was back, tacked onto his name, and Saitou knew that for now, his comrade was not going to continue to question his methods. Only Yamazaki, who had been the one to administer the draught to Ichimura's daughter to imitate death so that she could be smuggled out of the city safely; Okita who knew how he operated and thus inferred what had happened; and Matsumoto, who had been the one to suggest the entire plan for Ichimura's daughter, knew the truth.

Yamazaki's oath as a doctor almost prevented him from drugging the girl, but he had seen the keen look on the doctor's face in the wake of what had happened to Ichimura's family. He had used that to his advantage, thus getting the doctor to agree to get the girl to safety first so that she could recover without the fear of being kidnapped or hurt, should an attack happen at the Aoiya. There was the risk of Yamazaki telling Ichimura the news, but he knew that the former spy knew that appearances had to be kept up if there were enemy spies around, and that Ichimura was a horrible liar and actor to keep up the appearance of grief. Thus, Yamazaki would not spill the secret yet.

He knew that the spymaster had a vested interest in keeping Kyoto safe, but even if she was a part of the police force, she was still first and foremost, a shinobi who still had loyalties to the Oniwabanshuu. Matsumoto had visibly claimed no affiliation from the organization, but he, Saitou, had never heard her vocalize it – thus he did not place a complete trust in her actions. She, however, understood the risks and thus would not tell anyone of what they had done to Ichimura's daughter, just like she had never admitted her participation in the Battle of Shiroyama to anyone else except for him, Saitou.

Though there was still some residual hostility towards the subject of what he, Saitou, had done to Ichimura's daughter, he trusted Okita completely to ensure that the safety of Kyoto was paramount. The former First Unit captain would not jeopardize the safety of many over one. Both of them had and still upheld and lived by the rules of governance that Hijikata had laid down when the Shinsengumi had been formed.

That was all there was to it, and thus it was the only reason why he said, “My plan to draw Kitamura and the French woman named Akesato out involves you staying in the city.”

“Have we confirmed that Akesato is the same Akesato of Shimabara that Yamanami-san was seeing before he died?” Okita asked.

“She is,” he confirmed. When he had returned to the Aoiya after the morning's useless attempt to interrogate the four shinobi, he had been pleased to see that the spymaster had recovered some of her strength – enough to give him more information about the national case and everyone involved. He had also been informed by Matsumoto that one of the policemen had reported possibly seeing the western woman entering the city, though the woman was skilled enough to blend in and the policeman could not track her.

Matsumoto had also informed him that there was some person or group controlling not only Akesato but others around the country, who wanted to destabilize the government so that it would be more amenable to outside influences. The Imperial spy network could not figure out who or what country it came from though. There was also no doubt in his mind that both Akesato and Kitamura sought revenge for transgressions of the past, but without the full list of those named by Tokyo, they could only stop the two and hope that other cities would be able to topple the ringleader or ringleaders.

“Then I already have an idea on how your plan goes, Saitou-san,” Okita stated. “There is no need to tell it to me in full.”

He gave a wolfish grin towards his comrade. There were already too many loose ears and tongues in the streets, even at this hour, and though he had not felt any faint 'oppressive' feelings that told him that Fuuma shinobi were spying with their creatures, after all that had happened, he expected that the creatures would not be used as much anymore. It would be back to the traditional ways of spying, and that meant that if the Fuuma clansmen were as good as the Oniwabanshuu, neither he nor Okita would sense or see them. The battlefield was not quite leveled yet, but it would be soon.

* * *

Misao kept her profile as subdued as possible, as she walked into the heart of the city, having gotten rid of the horse she had rode from Otsu to the outskirts. There was no practical way she could ride a horse in without either the patrolling police or potential enemy shinobi intercepting her. She had also made sure that when she arrived, it had been on an indirect route from Otsu. Even though she had not sensed anyone following her, what had happened over the course of the past week had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

The air was saturated in fear, and each night she patrolled, she could feel it. It scared her to think that only last year, the city and her people were so brave and willing to stand up to Shishio Makoto. Now, even with the pigeons sent out to trusted people so that they added extra eyes on the streets to help the police, many stayed at home, worried about the future. She had not told Aoshi this whenever they had met up after their patrols, for she had seen the perpetually grim look on his face even graver, and did not want to bother him with her own observations.

Though her fellow shinobi had given her daily encouragement in the face of this crisis, she still felt lost as the _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu. She knew that she should lead by example, but what example was there to set when even their patrols around the city could not produce any solid information or a perpetrator of the poisonings? She wasn't sure if the police station's explosion was just because of stored gunpowder, but even then, there had been no sighting of any enemy shinobi.

Pausing at a night-ramen stand, she glanced up at the burning wick of a street lamp that the stand had been set up next to. Beyond the oil lamp was a sliver of a moon, and judging from its position in the sky, she estimated that it was about nine at night, according to the western way of reading time.

“Irasshaimase!” the ramen vendor said, startling her out of her observations as she quickly turned around, her long braid thwaking into a passerby.

“Oh, sorry!” she apologized as she turned towards the passerby who merely glared at her for a moment while clutching a young sleeping girl closer to him. She thought the girl looked familiar, but with the oil lamp flickering, she couldn't get a good look, and hastily backed up slightly as the man continued to glare daggers at her.

“Watch where you're going next time,” the man gruffly said before continuing down the street.

“Sheesh,” she muttered to herself as she gave a smile to the vendor before sheepishly shaking her head no on the offering of a meal. Time was wasting and she needed to get back to the Aoiya to tell Saitou the news, even if she was not happy to be taking orders from Kyoto's police force.

As she continued down the road, which normally at this time of year, would be crowded with tourists and natives enjoying fireworks, but was now virtually empty, she wondered if her home would ever recover from what had happened. Shishio Makoto's attempt at burning down Kyoto had made people slightly nervous, but it had been successfully prevented, with most of the thanks going to the additional boost of policemen from Tokyo and the vigilance of the Kyoto natives. There was also the fact that most of the destruction rendered during that incident was at Mount Heiei, which was outside of the city proper.

Now the city was burned, either because of an accident or by a deliberate attack, and with children being poisoned and nothing that the police could show for their attempts to find those responsible, fear was mingling with the undercurrent of hostility. If Kyoto survived, she hoped that next summer would be a quiet affair; surely the city deserved that much for everything it had gone through during the revolution.

As she turned the corner to the street that the Aoiya was located on, she saw the lights of her home shining through, and with relief and happiness in her heart, she jogged the rest of the way there. Bursting through the entrance, she shouted, “Hey guys! I'm home!”

Silence initially greeted her, as she saw that the table where Saitou had occupied as his own was empty and only pieces of paper, an ink stone and brushes sat upon the table. It was Oumime who popped her head out from the kitchen and said, “Ah, Mi—I mean, _Okashira_ , you're back!”

“Yep,” she cheerfully said before asking, “Where's everyone?”

“Hmm, lets see,” Oumime said just as Misao saw Tokio and her aunt enter the Aoiya from the garden in the back of the restaurant-inn. It looked like the two of them had been discussing something when her announcement of her arriving had been heard. “Oh, there they are,” Oumime said, smiling. “Yuki is probably going around the upstairs rooms, tending to the patients, since Susumu is not back yet from helping other doctors in the area. I think Saitou-san and Okita-san are patrolling on the ground. Kaoru and Masukami are back here, helping me with the dishes – they say hi. Himura-san is out somewhere investigating – I think Aoshi had sent him a message. Shirou and Kurou are patrolling on the rooftops--”

“Which just leaves me surrounded by all of these beautiful women!”

Misao gave an exasperated sigh, noting that her aunt had done the same, as Oumime responded to the lecherous comment of Ji-ya by whacking him none-too-lightly on the head. The commotion had brought both Kaoru and Masukami out from the kitchens as the tinkling laughter of Tokio filled the air. However, with all of the men (Yuki did not count since he was still a boy) gone, she realized that the old man did have a point – they were the ones left behind while the men did the work in the investigations and protection of the city.

Her aunt was a subversion to the mostly traditional roles of a Japanese woman, as were most of the other women present, and though Misao wanted to be like her – strong and able to prove her worth, it seemed that her fellow shinobi at the Aoiya did not see her, Misao, in that way. She didn't liked to be coddled, and though she had been devastated after seeing the results of Aoshi's attack on Ji-ya last year before he had turned back to the light, she had survived through it. She resented being kept in the dark, but since she had declared her self as _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu, she operated with a lot more freedom than before. It was a step in the direction she wanted to go, but the responsibility of being the leader of a clandestine group still weighed heavily on her mind.

“Misao,” her aunt said, and Misao smiled in relief – her aunt sounded a lot stronger than she had been, and to see her walking added to that relief. “Where's Ichimura Tatsunosuke and his wife?”

“They decided not to go,” she answered, plopping herself down on a seat as Masukami ducked back into the kitchens and came out with a cup of tea. “Reika is staying behind to guard them. Ichimura said--”

She immediately fell silent as she saw her aunt, Oumime, Ji-ya, and Masukami suddenly look warily around. She looked around too, but could not see anything. Unease formed in her stomach as her aunt brushed past her and Tokio, with a concerned look on her face asked, “Were you by chance, followed?”

“No,” she said, standing back up, shaking her head slightly as she saw Oumime and Masukami's eyes on the ceiling, while Ji-ya had tightened his grip on the indoor broom in his hands as he stopped sweeping. “I took a roundabout route--”

The cracks of splintering wood and shattered sliding partition-doors cut off anything else she was going to say as she instinctively ducked and shielded her eyes from the flying shards. Ten black-clad shinobi burst in, five from the front, five from the back, surrounding all seven of them. Her aunt had immediately been engulfed in the sea of black as soon as the enemy shinobi had entered, as had Ji-ya and Tokio. She had barely enough time to react and withdraw at least two throwing knives, one in each hand, as an enemy shinobi wielding a scythe-like weapon descended upon her.

Gritting her teeth as the powerful overhead blow shook her arm, she crossed her arms and held the deadly blade above her, digging her heels in as she tried to force the blade away. Inky glittering eyes of hatred pinned her as she gave a yell of protest, feeling herself sink lower under the pressure of the blade.

She could hear Han'nya's words pounding through her head – to use her lower center of gravity against the opponent, or to kick or lash out with her feet to upset her opponent's balance – do anything she could to make sure she always had the upper hand. With the weight of her opponent pressing down, she knew that she couldn't do any of those things – one false or wrong move and that deadly blade would cut through her head like a knife through soft tofu.

Every fight she had been in, she had either faced off against an opponent with help, or had fought bandits who had been no match for her skills. She had never fought against shinobi. Genuine fear ran through her blood as she realized that this was the first time she truly fought against an enemy who was probably greater in skill than her, and that everyone around her was fighting against their own opponent.

She was truly in over her head this time, with no way out.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slightly stilted Kenshin POV part. He got really pissed off at me once I started writing Saitou and Okita's part and their discussion about what Saitou did to Tetsu's daughter, though really...Saitou's just trying to save as many people as possible. He just needs to take a long look at his methods. Alas, I couldn't get Kenshin to cooperate after that. It was also a miracle that I got Souji to cooperate with me after that too...
> 
> On the other hand, writing Misao's POV part was a challenge, considering that she's still quite inexperienced when compared to most of the other characters. That's why her part is a bit more cheery - everyone at the Aoiya is still trying to shield her from the world.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

With her shinobi attacking those on the first floor, and patients still resting and recovering from the explosion, there was virtually no one wandering around the second floor. Thanks to the distraction below, Akesato managed to simply sneak in and entered the Aoiya through the rooftop hatch. She had never learned to fully muddle her presence, due to the disdain that the Fuuma clan, who had taught her, had for foreigners. However, that was a relic of the past – before the clan had been all but destroyed. Now the clan was at her and her employers' mercy, but she didn't let that go to her head. As she closed the rooftop hatch, she paused in the shadows, hoping that her half-muddled presence was not sensed, as she saw light spill out from a room down the hall and a young boy dash out, drawn towards the commotion downstairs.

As soon as the boy was gone, she breathed out her held breath and stepped out of the shadows. Her silent but swift footsteps carried her through the halls of the restaurant-inn until she arrived at a particular room, sensing the familiar presence that she had not felt for a very long time. Silently sliding the door open, she slipped in and slid the door closed. With the racket on the first floor, she was slightly surprised that the person sitting vigil at the head of the futon where his wife laid, breathing evenly but still unconscious, had not even moved.

It was only when she pressed a blade against the small of Ichimura's back and wrapped a hand around his mouth that he reacted. However, due to his prolonged sitting in seiza, she had him pinned down with just her own weight as she whispered in his ear, “Don't shout, don't move or else you and your wife will die and you will never see your son again.”

It had initially puzzled her that she had not seen the daughter of Ichimura lying in the same room as her mother, but as she and the shinobi she had traveled with into Kyoto had picked up many rumors. One of those was the fact that Ichimura's daughter had succumbed to whatever the summoned-creature had done. She was glad that Kitamura had the foresight to snatch Ichimura's son up as a hostage, though she was disappointed that they did not have a second hostage – they would work with what they had.

There was a rough nod from Ichimura and she let her hand go from his mouth, but kept the blade pressed against his back. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?” he whispered.

“Kitamura Suzu has your son,” she said, ignoring his question. “If you want him back, you will follow the instructions I'm about to give you. If you don't, your son will die.”

“Suzu?!” Ichimura said, horrified. “But, why?! Why after all these years? He was crying that day when his master tried to kill me. He tried to save me. Where did he go? Why is he doing this?”

“You can ask him when you meet him,” she said, pressing the blade slightly into Ichimura to silence his inane questioning. “This is what you will need to do to see and possibly save your son. Kyoto's spymaster, Shinohara Tainoshin, has a list of all surviving Shinsengumi members besides you and Saitou Hajime. You are to bring it to the meeting point, which is where you and Kitamura first met. We have given you three days to do this, and if you even think about double-crossing and bringing a fake list, I and the shinobi I command will hunt you and your entire family down, including your brother and his family. No amount of protection will save any of you.”

“What if I don't do it?”

She smiled behind the cloth covering her face, surprised but strangely also glad to see that the rumored spinelessness that she had thought had possessed Ichimura since the end of the revolution, was not entirely true. “I hardly believe that you're one to allow your son to die. But, if you don't do as we demand, in three days, our first victim will be Himura Kenshin's wife and the child she carries. You can try to warn them and I guarantee that they'll try to send her away, but we have ways of reaching our targets that the police cannot stop. Just ask Yamazaki Susumu what happened to a pregnant woman who was poisoned several days ago.”

“If I do this, I want to make sure that my brother and his family will not be affected, and that it is only between Suzu and me,” Ichimura said. “Tatsu-nii was Shinsengumi too, but he was only a bookkeeper.”

“I hardly think you're in a position to bargain, Ichimura,” she said, please to see that Ichimura's legendary audacity to do things was still intact, though it was completely useless in this situation. “Your son for the list in three days at the place where you and Kitamura first met.”

The reddish-brown haired man was silent for a few long minutes before saying in a defeated tone, “I agree to your terms.”

* * *

Tokio coolly upended the table nearest to her, just as the enemy shinobi crashed straight into it, splintering it into many pieces of wood. With a fluid motion honed by practice and years of training, along with experience in fighting, she snatched up a long section of the splintered pieces of the table, holding it at a guard position.

A moment later, she swung the long end of it towards the shinobi who had sprung up from the floor. The shinobi ducked and attempted to step in closer to her, but she kept her distance, wielding the long wood section as if it were a naginata. She managed to ward off the shinobi's knives, by quickly swinging the section side to side, before they could fly towards her. With the arms of the shinobi smarting from the quick thwacks of wood she stepped in and thrusted the section straight into the shinobi's unprotected gut.

The power and swiftness of her attack caught the shinobi off guard as the sharp end of the wood pierced his stomach. She yanked the section out and sensing another shinobi trying to sneak up on her from behind, she spun quickly, lodging a piece of the wood into her attacker's neck, killing the kunoichi. Breaking the piece of wood with force, she turned her attention to Kaoru, who was doing everything she could to block the swings of a chained ball-mace from her attacker.

Though her improvised weapon was shortened, it still had a sharpened end, and she threw it with all of her might and watched as it sailed through the air and embedded itself into leg of the shinobi. There was a howl, but quicker than she expected, the shinobi managed to stumble back and out of the way of Kaoru's attempted strike on his head with the iron skillet she had taken from the kitchens.

The shinobi ran, but didn't get very far as he ran right into the clutches of Kashiwazaki, who had already defeated his own opponent seconds before. The old proprietor stood his ground and in less than a blink of an eye, thrusted the heel of his right palm upwards and into the shinobi's face. Blood exploded from the nose of the shinobi as he sailed through the air and landed on the floor in a heap. Kashiwazaki had hit hard enough to knock out the shinobi, but not hard enough to kill him.

The audible pop of another neck being wrenched was heard as Tokio looked over towards the entrance of the Aoiya to see Aya wrenching the head of a shinobi sideways. Another dead body of a kunoichi, who also had her neck wrenched in an unnatural angle was on the floor before the spymaster. Oumime and Masukami had knocked out their own opponents and as for Misao--

“And stay down!”

Tokio raised her eyebrows slightly as she saw Yukimura give quite a hard whack with his wooden sword on the back of the shinobi who had been cornering Misao. Knocked out, the burly shinobi thumped to the floor, and with a look around the area, there were no other enemies attacking them. She relaxed her guard slightly.

The clatter of an iron pan on the ground startled them, but before any of them could say a word, Kaoru sheepishly said, “I guess that was a little heavier than I expected.”

“We should check the rooftop,” Misao spoke up, dusting her hands together. Tokio hid the smile she had as she saw the young _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu take charge, though she noted that the young woman hesitated slightly when her eyes strayed over the dead bodies, as opposed to those only knocked out.

The young woman had never lived through the horrors of the revolution or a battlefield where men were actually killed instead of knocked out, as some of the members of the Juppongatana had been. Tokio understood the unease and possibly shock that was still coursing through the young woman at the sight of freshly killed people, especially since two of those had been killed by her police spymaster aunt. The mentality to swallow and ignore the instinct of fear upon seeing something dead was a hard one to get over, and for Tokio, it had taken a very long time to get over it before she was confident enough to do her duties during defense of Edo in the revolution. She hoped that Misao would be able to stomach most of what she saw.

“We'll also need to get a message to Kurou, Shirou, and the others,” Misao continued after a moment.

“I will help clear the second floor,” Tokio volunteered, stepping over one of the dead bodies, making her way towards Kaoru, who looked a little ill, “for I do not think that you were followed, _Okashira_ , but that this ambush was a part of something bigger. It doesn't seem right that they would only send ten to ambush us.”

“I agree,” she heard Aya say and saw the spymaster toe one of the dead bodies around her. “If they really wanted to kill us, they would've sent their more skilled people than a bunch of amateurs.”

She watched, half in amusement, half in exasperation over the arrogant statement that the spymaster had made, especially with respect to the baffled reactions that Misao, Kaoru, and Yukimura had. However, it was Kashiwazaki who spoke up, his tone serious and with a glint of anger in his eyes as he said, “She's right. Compared to what we've faced before against the Fuuma clan, I'd have to say that these ten had just completed their training. If they truly wanted to kill us, they would've sent a summoned creature.”

“ _Okashira_ ,” Masukami spoke up after a few moments of silence, “I will take the message to Kurou and Shirou.”

“I would suggest taking Yuki-kun with you to the nearest substation so that we can let Saitou-san know. Aya and I will clear the bodies,” Kashiwazaki said, though it sounded more like a suggestion than an actual order. The proprietor knew that though Misao was still new to leadership, it would trample her pride to have people issuing orders that conflicted with her own.

“Okay,” Misao agreed. “That's a good idea. They can help get a message to Aoshi-sama and Himura too. Let's clear the rooftops, Masukami.”

“Kaoru,” Tokio quietly said, turning her attention from the kunoichi as she gave an enthusiastic nod of her head, to Kaoru. Placing a gentle hand on the sleeve of her friend, she asked, “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” the young woman said, nodding, “I'm just not used to seeing dead bodies.”

“Come,” she said, guiding the young woman from the mess on the first floor, as the others set about to do their tasks. “Help me with the second floor.”

The young woman nodded and as they started to climb the stairs, she glanced back to see that Kashiwazaki and Aya were moving the dead bodies out first. She couldn't help but feel worried for the spymaster, especially since it looked like it was taking all of Aya's concentration just to keep standing and moving. That short fight had taken a lot of strength out of the still-recovering woman, and she knew that they were lucky that only ten had attacked and not more.

What she and the spymaster had discussed before Misao had returned would stay between the two of them. However, she couldn't help but add to the worry of the woman's health. The two of them were not friends, but she had an enormous amount of respect for the woman who headed the Kyoto Imperial spy network. There was an inner strength and stubbornness that matched the tenacity that all police officers displayed, and it was also the fact that her husband, of all people, treated her as his equal that spoke volumes about the spymaster.

Hajime was not one to give people respect or courtesy unless they earned it, and Tokio could count the amount of people who had earned her husband's respect with one hand. It was not her husband's respect for the spymaster that had caused the spymaster to leave her duties for a few minutes to speak with her, but rather that the spymaster knew of her – especially her past. That had surprised her, but nonetheless, they had a pleasant conversation. What they spoke about would remain confidential, but it had helped her understand and get to know Aya a little better.

“It looks clear,” Kaoru's voice brought her out of her musings as she saw the younger woman at the top of the stairs, looking up and down the hall.

“Ah, then we should stop by Ichimura-san's room first,” she said, as she reached the top and turned to go down the hall. Ensuring that Kaoru was behind her in a way that she could turn and defend her from either direction, should anything jump out at them and attack, she kept her steps light while shuffling in her kimono, which had become just slightly loosened around her leg area by the recent battle.

“I hate myself for saying this,” Kaoru began, “but I'm actually kind of jealous how you can do that kind of walk with ease. How do you do it?”

She let a bit of amusement creep into her voice as she answered, saying, “It was a technique that was taught to me by my bodyguard to keep any potential assassins around the corner from hearing me. It was actually supposed to be quieter than this, enabling me to get away without assassins hearing me if I needed to. But sadly, I haven't practiced or used it in a while, so now, its quite audible.”

“Assassins?! Why would someone try to assassinate you?” Tokio heard a squeak and the sound of hands slapping a face and glanced back to see that Kaoru had clamped two hands over her mouth, looking quite embarrassed at what she had just said. “I'm so sorry,” the young woman said after a few moments, releasing her self-inflicted clamp and bowed, “I didn't mean to ask such an intrusive question.”

“It's all right,” she said, reassuring Kaoru. “If you would like, I can show you later how its done.”

She saw Kaoru give a nod before saying, “Right. Let's make sure there's no more intruders.”

With the matter settled, Tokio returned her attention and continued down the hall. Stopping where Ichimura was staying, she slid open the door slightly and saw that Ichimura was still sitting vigil at his wife's bedside. She couldn't sense anything wrong and there seemed to be no other presence in the room other than the two and so she slid the door close. Turning slightly towards Kaoru, she shook her head and both of them continued on.

Room by room, the two of them quietly cleared them, noting that the noise downstairs of the area being cleaned up was louder than what should've been proper at this time of night. However, it was the nature of the beast, and it couldn't be helped. Once she and Kaoru cleared the second floor, also noting that patients of Dr. Yamazaki still had not moved much or were disturbed by the noise down stairs, they returned to the first floor.

At the foot of the stairs, she saw Aya walk back into the Aoiya after carrying a body outside and noticed that there were some fresh red spots on the sleeves of the yukata that Aya was wearing that had not been there before. She knew that policemen in general would be careful in removing bodies, so to not contaminate potential evidence, thus her assumption that the blood was not from those who died. Some of the spymaster's wounds must've reopened either during the fight or the subsequent movement of dead bodies. Kashiwazaki strolled in after her, rubbing his wrists slightly – he too had not escaped the ambush unscathed or he had strained his wrist in trying to remove the bodies. Fortunately, all of the dead had been removed, and only the unconscious ones were left.

Turning to Kaoru, she said, “Kaoru, please retrieve some hot water and clean cloths from the kitchens.”

“Will do,” the young woman answered, studiously avoiding her gaze towards where blood from the dead had dripped into small puddles on the once-polished floor.

Approaching both Kashiwazaki and Aya, both of whom were about to start moving the shinobi who had been knocked unconscious, she said, “Perhaps the two of you should rest for a moment. Your wounds have been re-opened, Aya-san, and Kashiwazaki-san, it seems that you've strained your wrists slightly. Please allow me to tend to your injuries before more harm is done.”

She saw a flash of annoyance pass through Aya's eyes, but it was Kashiwazaki who genially exclaimed, “Ah, to be tended to by such a lovely woman as yourself, Fujita-dono. I am sure any man who is graced by your healing touch would feel as if he were in heaven.”

“Shut up, you old lecherous man,” Tokio heard the spymaster mutter in exasperation as Kashiwazaki took a seat at the nearest table that had not been upended or broken during the fight.

Fortunately, the spymaster also took a seat, pushing up the sleeves of her yukata, just as Kaoru came out of the kitchens, holding a pot of water with a few cloths draped over her arms. The young woman approached and placed the items down on the table, as Tokio pulled up two chairs and instructed Kaoru on how to carefully unwrap the blood-soaked bandages from Aya's arms, clean the wounds, before re-bandaging. As Kaoru did what she was instructed, Tokio worked on ensuring that Kashiwazaki's wrists were properly bound so that further use would not strain them.

The medical attention took a few minutes and just as she finished binding Kashiwazaki's wrists in a layer of thick, sturdy cloth, she heard a commotion outside. Fortunately, it was not another attack as she glanced towards the entrance to see both Okita and her husband enter. Though her husband's expression was completely unreadable, she could read the concern he had for her in just the subtle way he moved across the floor's mess.

Rising gracefully from where she was sitting, she met him halfway, noting with partial amusement of the background antics that played out over her husband's shoulders; Yukimura had dashed in behind the two men and had headed straight for his mother, vocally concerned about her injuries. It had been quick enough to almost missed, but she had seen Okita's annoyed look flash across his face before he paused to survey the damage done around the room.

Returning her attention to her husband, she placed a hand on the sleeve of his uniform as his eyes took all of her in. That intense, penetrating gaze he gave her spoke more than just ensuring that she had not been hurt – it made her stomach flutter a bit. Flushing slightly, she gave him a smile that told him that they could _discuss_ it later in private and said, “Now that you're here, Hajime, I will be returning home to retrieve my naginata.”

If he was the alpha male wolf of this strange, motley pack of Kyoto defenders, then she in turn was the den mother who ensured all the cubs were protected when the Wolves of Mibu were out chasing prey. She would need teeth to properly defend, for today's attack was only indicative of what could possibly happen on a larger scale in the coming days or weeks. Her friend Saya had already been hurt – she was determined not to let any other person under her care, especially Kaoru, get injured.

“I've already sent word to the patrol units to allow you through with your weapon,” he said, his tone completely professional as the brief personal moment disappeared.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping her hand from his sleeve. “Matsumoto-san will be able to provide you the details of the attack.”

“I thought that brat of hers had more maturity,” she heard him mutter as both of them glanced over to see Yukimura examining what Kaoru had done for the bandaging on Aya's arms. On the other hand, Kaoru looked a bit miffed at what the young boy was doing.

“Hajime, you know Tsutomu was just like Yukimura-kun before we left,” she quietly admonished.

“No son of mine will be _that_ clingy,” he quietly promised, before giving a slight cough, mainly to refocus his attention and stepped away from her.

Seeing that her husband was going to be in good hands with the proper information given, Tokio left. Just as she passed the entrance into the Aoiya, she heard rapid footsteps from down the street. In the dimly lit streets that was also slightly illuminated with the moon partially hidden behind clouds, she saw the familiar tall, lanky form of Shinomori Aoshi and the shorter, smaller form of Himura Kenshin approach. Upon them seeing her, she could see the relief pass by both of their expressions as she stepped to the side to allow the two to rush in.

Shinomori entered with a curt nod towards her, but Himura stopped before her and with a slight inclination of her head towards the ex-assassin, she said, “Your wife is safe and uninjured, Himura-san.”

“Thank you, Tokio-dono,” Himura said. “I will never forget the debt I owe you for protecting my wife.”

She shook her head, saying, “Please, Himura-san. You do not owe a debt to me. Kaoru is a friend, and it is my pleasure and honor to keep her safe and sound whenever it is needed. You and my husband are working hard to catch these criminals. I want to ensure that your mind is clear and free of worries, so that both of you are successful in your task.”

“I heard ten shinobi attacked,” Himura said after a moment's pause. Even with the dimness, she could tell that he was highly uncomfortable with what she had just said. “Were anyone else hurt?”

“Nothing that a few new bandages wrapped around old wounds cannot heal,” she said. “Please Himura-san. Do not worry about us or your wife. I was the commander of an onna-bugeisha unit and successfully led them to victory during the initial defense of Edo during the revolution. I believe that I am quite capable of coordinating and defending the Aoiya if attacked.”

It was not pride that colored her words, but the truth that she knew that Himura needed to hear. Though his wife was a practicing swordswoman, she knew that Kaoru had never used her skills with a live sword before. Kaoru had only also used her skills in small local skirmishes against bullies in Tokyo. Her first real taste of battle had been against one of the Juppongatana that mercifully (according to her husband) had not even been as serious as it could have been. She knew from talking to Kaoru that the woman had not even held a live sword before. She, Tokio, had held a live blade before, and knew that there was a very wide difference in mentality between a wooden or bamboo practice blade and an actual one that could kill with one strike.

It was all for the sake of ensuring that Kaoru was well protected, that she had told Himura a little about herself. She could only hope that it was enough to appease the ex-assassin's mind and worries.

She was slightly startled as Himura gave her a deep bow before saying, “I thank you from the depths of my soul for protecting my wife, Tokio-dono, that I am.”

Acknowledging the immensely humble bow, she watched as Himura straightened himself and stepped into the Aoiya, confidence back in his steps. Smiling slightly, she continued on her way, knowing that for now, the Aoiya was protected with the hunting Wolves of Mibu and the Dragon back home.

* * *

_Three days..._

_Your son for the list..._

Tetsu gradually became aware that there was quite a bit of noise downstairs, but before he could make himself get up and investigate, he felt something pat his clenched hands on his lap. Blinking, he looked up and saw that remarkably, his wife had turned her head slightly towards him with eyes open and alert. She had snaked a hand from under the covers to touch him, and with that small gesture, he nearly broke down, crying with relief.

Scooping up his wife's delicately small hand, he kissed the underside of her wrist as he said between sobs, “You're awake. You're awake.”

As soon as he could control his tears, he blinked as much of them away as possible as he saw the same relief, same tears of joy reflected in his wife's eyes. He felt her trying to move her hand in his and understood that she wanted to say something. Resting the palm of her hand in his, he waited patiently as she wrote out what she wanted to say.

[ _Where is our daughter?_ ]

He hesitated for a long moment as sadness took over him again. He had barely been aware of what Susumu had been saying for the past days, lost in a fog of grief and misery. But when his friend had broken the news that little Kanako had died, he had felt his world completely shatter into pieces. He wanted to lie to Saya, to tell her that their daughter was doing fine and resting in another room, but it would be futile for him to. Saya had been and still was able to see through any lie. So he told her the truth.

“She died earlier today.”

The grief that wrapped around his wife's face sent a fresh bout of tears falling from his eyes as he bowed his head. He had failed his family, failed to protect them from attack, failed to save them. No parent should ever outlive their own child, and he had failed – just like he had failed so long ago to save the one man whom he considered a true father.

[ _...heard what that dark-clad woman said to you, dear._ ]

“What?” he said as he looked back up to see that though her eyes were still glistening with tears, there was a hard look about them – the same stubborn look she always had whenever she was challenging someone. “You heard her?”

[ _I remember that you told me long ago that you could not see Suzu ever again, but I thought you and he were friends._ ]

“We were...” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “His master tried to kill me and he tried to stop him. His master was at Ikedaya, and was killed during the raid. I didn't see Suzu there, but I knew then that I could no longer see him, even though I wanted to thank him for trying to stop his master.”

[ _Tetsu, did you kill Suzu's master?_ ]

“No,” he whispered. “His master almost killed me that night.” Tracing a finger across the faded scar that ran below his right eye, across the cheekbone and stopped at the edge of his right ear, he continued saying, “That's where this came from. I don't know why he's doing this, Saya. I didn't kill his master...I didn't kill anyone that night.”

[ _You need to tell Susumu. You need to let him and the police know._ ]

“I can't, Saya,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “This is my problem. I don't want Saitou Hajime in my business again.”

He saw his wife's eyes narrow slightly in anger as she wrote: [ _Tetsu, if you don't tell them, I will, no matter what condition I'm in._ ]

“But--”

[ _Our son is still alive. We don't know why Suzu is doing this, but if the police can help us, our son will continue to stay alive. I already lost my daughter, Tetsu. I almost lost you to Saigo Takamori's revolution. Please don't let me lose my son too._ ]

He could see her pleading with her eyes, and the words that she had written hit home for him. He had been a foolish man pining for years that he could not recover while spending time in marriage to the woman he loved. He realized that throughout the years, he had half-neglected the emotional state of not only his own but also his wife and family's state of mind. As little Kanako and her brother, Toshirou, grew up, he had gone through the motions of fatherhood, but he had never put any concentrated effort in raising them. That had all been left to Saya, and while the stationary shop he owned and ran took most of his time, it was just a distraction from the turmoil that lingered within him.

His attempt at finding a proper samurai's death to follow the rules of the Shinsengumi had failed at the Battle of Shiroyama, and he loathed and hated what Saitou had done to stop that. The words that Saitou had snarled at him upon him waking up in a medical tent at Shiroyama still echoed in his mind. He knew that the former Third Unit Captain's words were true, and since then, he had been desperately trying to prove him wrong.

As soon as he returned from Shiroyama, it had already been too late, and the fact that despite putting on an appearance of a caring and loving family for the public eye, his former intimate relationship with his wife was all but gone. They stayed as a family only for the sake of their children. Did it really take a crisis such as this to bring them back together?

He sighed – his vigil at his wife's bedside was proof of that. After a few moments, he cupped his wife's hand within his own and said, “I love you, Saya.”

[ _I love you too, Tetsu._ ]

“I'm going to tell Okita-san. He's not working for Saitou and he was with me at Ikedaya. We're going to get our son back alive. I promise.”

* * *

The streets were nearly empty as Saitou and Okita hauled the unconscious lone survivor of the shinobi who had attacked the Aoiya. Had the streets been crowded with gawking tourists and laughing natives, all trying to enjoy what Kyoto offered during the nighttime portion of festivities, the interrogation would have had to been done at the Aoiya. Both Okta and Shinomori had insisted that the interrogation _not_ been done right then and there, thus the short walk to the nearest substation.

The other unconscious shinobi had been taken to the back of the Aoiya and quietly killed by Matsumoto on his, Saitou's, orders. They only needed one survivor for the interrogation, for he knew that they did not have the eyes to keep an eye on the other shinobi who had survived. Officers had been summoned to the back of restaurant-inn and they had quickly carted all the bodies away to dump them into a mass grave. That had been completed before the other patrolling shinobi, along with Yamazaki and Weasel Girl had arrived back at the Aoiya. Thankfully, Kashiwazaki had had an inkling of what was being done and had distracted the others from witnessing what had been going on in the back of the Aoiya – though Saitou was sure that the Battousai knew what had happened, but was too late to stop it.

Fortunately, Saitou did not even have to order the Battousai to stay at the Aoiya. The ex-assassin had volunteered on his own free will. It didn't surprise him though, that Shinomori had wordlessly asked to come along to the substation. He had expected the ex-leader of the Oniwabanshuu to have an interest in this. Even though he did not know the history between the Fuuma clan and the Oniwabanshuu, he knew enough that there was bad blood between the two groups, and thus, he had not acknowledged Shinomori's request, but allowed him to accompany them.

Now though, Shinomori's presence could not be felt, Saitou could hear the scrape of boots on the dirt road following them. The sound was deliberately made, to keep him from glancing back every so often to ensure that they were not being followed by any other attempted ambush by enemy shinobi.

Policemen standing guard at the entrance to the nearest substation stood tall as he and Okita dragged in the shinobi. Most at the substation had left as soon as Saitou had sent word ahead – he did not want any officer in the place to overhear any confession that the shinobi might make; loose tongues would be detrimental to the plan already set in motion to catch Kitamura and Akesato. Only a handful were left and they had been strategically placed around the station to ensure that to any late-night passerby, the station was still occupied.

“A chair is too kind for him,” Shinomori suddenly stated. “Hanging him from the rafters would be more conducive for interrogation.”

Saitou slightly raised an eyebrow at the shinobi's words, but did not say anything as he glanced up and looked at the beams of the western-reinforced substation. Where several beams and a support post met, he gave a nod towards Okita and the two of them dragged the shinobi to it. Out of somewhere he knew not, Shinomori had produced a coil of rope and quickly tied up the shinobi before throwing the other end of the rope across the beams and support post. Tugging the rope until the shinobi was touching the floor with only the tips of his toes, Shinomori then tied it off to another post.

Okita had re-entered the area where they had tied up the shinobi, holding a pot of tea. His comrade shook his head slightly, indicating that this was all the liquid that he could find. It would have to do.

Taking the pot, he removed the cover and threw the liquid into the shinobi's face. The effect was instant as the shinobi jerked awake and blearily blinked to get the cold liquid out of his eyes. Saitou patiently waited for the shinobi to get his bearings and focus before watching with interest as the shinobi involuntarily jerked back slightly as his eyes settled on Shinomori.

There was no indication from the former _Okashira_ of him recognizing this enemy shinobi, but clearly, the enemy shinobi recognized him. With his interest piqued, he stepped in and said in a low, almost growling tone, “You recognize him, don't you.”

“Y-yes,” the shinobi said, and despite his surprise at just how youthful of a man's voice the shinobi spoke with, Saitou kept that surprise from appearing on his face. The shinobi could only be a few years older than Eiji. “P-please don't kill me. I-I was forced into this by my clan...I didn't want to do this. Please, don't kill me. I'll tell you everything!”

“He's lying,” Shinomori spoke up, completely impassive with arms crossed over his chest.

“What?!” the shinobi cried out, “I'm not! I swear! I didn't want to do this! They forced me to! You're the _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu! You're the reason why all of us children grew up without fathers or mothers! You destroyed our heritage...freed us! We were living in the new era, free of our shadows, free to do whatever the hell we wanted to, when that bitch and her pale-men, along with that man-whore of a samurai found us and convinced some of the older children to help them! All I wanted to was to live my life, free of the stigma of being a low-classed citizen...free from my parents' harassment of what our broken and bloody history was...free to marry the girl I loved...I didn't want to do this...”

“He's still lying.”

Saitou breathed in a deep breath as the cigarette that he had fished out of his uniform's pocket hung from the corner of his mouth. He had lit it up during the middle of the shinobi's breakdown, listening with partial interest at the shinobi's pathetic confession. He could easily identify the French woman named Akesato's description from the confession, but he wasn't sure if 'man-whore' pointed to Kitamura or not. “Just tell us what's going to happen. What is this Akesato woman and her people going to do?”

“They're going to attack Kyoto in three days time,” the shinobi confessed, fear clearly etched in his eyes that were the only parts of his head that was not covered by the black head and facial coverings. “I don't know where they currently are – Akesato has us move camp locations often. She said that those who attacked tonight were just the scouting party to see how Kyoto's defenses were and that if any of us survived, we were to drop the information off at a certain location. If we all died, then she would know that defenses were high.”

Saitou glanced over at Shinomori, but there was a calculated look in the former leader of the Oniwabanshuu's eyes. The fact that Shinomori had not said that the shinobi was lying about this information told Saitou that it was mostly true, though he would not put too much stock in it. “How many are there of your people?”

“A lot,” the shinobi said. “I don't know. I never saw more than five or ten at a time. I was told a couple of days ago that my training was complete and that Akesato needed me to do some scouting and defense testing. She threatened the girl I loved to get me to cooperate.”

There was a slight rustling of fabric as Saitou saw out of the corner of his eyes, Shinomori shaking his head slightly. “Where is the drop point for your message?” he asked.

“At the building called Lotus Blossom Inn in the district formerly known as Shimabara,” the shinobi said.

“It could be a trap,” Okita cautioned from beside him, as the former First Unit Captain caught on quite quickly to what Saitou had been mentally planning since the shinobi first spilled his secrets.

“I'm assuming you wait until someone shows up to collect the information?” he asked the shinobi.

“Yes.”

Saitou gave a nod towards Shinomori who wordlessly stepped up and untied the rope on the post, allowing the shinobi to collapse on the ground. Saitou then stepped up to the shinobi who looked up at him with fear in his eyes, still partially hog-tied and unable to move. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth and holding it with one hand, “I congratulate you, shinobi. You're the only survivor of your 'scouting' team who stupidly tried to attack several women who knew how to defend themselves. Bring this information to your employers at the drop site and the police will see about giving you protection. Trust me, the alternative is much, much worse.”

“I-I will.”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to advance the plot further into Tetsu actually telling Okita about Akesato's blackmail, but the short skirmish at the Aoiya was hijacked by Tokio and her observations. Also, that skirmish was supposed to have been written in Kaoru's POV, but I really did not want to write about a iron skillet/pan whacking fight...no matter how awesome it sounded. My inner Kendoka refused to allow me to write a sword-fight-like battle in that manner.
> 
> Also, I have never studied Naginatajutsu before, but long ago, I remember seeing a few people practice it (the Kendo class that I practiced in shared the same gym-like dojo with the Naginata class). So, forgive me for the vague references to that particular martial art. I work better at writing sword-fights than other types of weaponry.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

There was a hunger in the air that seemed not able to sate itself, as the creature paused for a moment and sniffed the air. Blood had been spilt, though it was no where near the area in which its master had told it to go to. Though it was dark and the creature clung to the shadows, careful not to let the mindless husks of what its master had called 'policemen' to see it, it could see these 'policemen' surrounding the building where its target was residing.

The 'policemen' were crouched in various areas, seemingly hidden for an ambush, and would be well covered by the darkness. However, the creature was not debilitated by the darkness or light and could see the 'policemen' as clear as its master could on an ordinary day.

With its master urging it onwards, it leapt quietly and scrabbled as quickly as it could over the rooftops. Gliding without a sound it approached, and slipped through a tiny crack in the building's window – no one had seen it, and no one raised an alarm. Flashing its claws out, it silently padded down the abandoned building, quickly sinking its needle-thin claws into the necks of patrolling meatbags and disappearing before any could utter a sound.

When the last of the 'policemen' who had been stationed inside of the building had fallen, it paused before the sliding partition that separated it from its target. With a command from its master, it shrunk until it became smoke and slithered into the cracks surrounding the partition. Before it reformed itself to launch at its target, it noted that the target was not alone.

Three others were arrayed around the room, all watching the target very carefully. One that it immediately named the Shadow Wolf, had already noticed that something was wrong. The Dire Wolf, whom it had been warned about by its master from others who controlled its brethren, and the final of the three, the Demon Wolf, had not quite noticed yet.

It would only get one chance to kill, and one chance to escape. It was not here to fight, but to gather information and kill its target. Coalescing into form, it lunged towards the target in the center of the room, snapping its terrifying maw of razor-sharp teeth.

* * *

_The next day, mid-morning..._

 

Though Saya was still weak and could not do more than just sit up and eat a simple meal of rice-porridge before resting again, she had passed on words to him for him to send up in a prayer to their daughter. With a quiet morning and a few people out and about, it was at the small fresh mound of dirt that only had a long wooden marker as a tombstone that he found himself kneeling before.

He closed his eyes, just as he heard Okita, who had accompanied him to this particular grave site, also kneel. Sending thoughts and prayers up to little Kanako, Tetsu also gave his deceased daughter her mother's message. After a few more silent moments, he opened his eyes, tears prickling slightly at the corner of his eyes as he caught sight of the flowers he had laid on his daughter's grave.

Another moment later, he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, Okita also open his own and unable to continue to linger in the area, Tetsu stood up. Taking the bucket that had held the flowers, he quickly walked away, hearing his friend fall into step beside him. When he finally turned the corner and was no longer able to look back and see the small graveyard, he stopped. He could feel his breathing ease, the constriction of grief in his heart unwind slightly, and could feel himself function as normally as he could, under the circumstances, again.

“Tetsu-kun,--”Okita began.

“There's something I need to tell you, Okita-san,” he said, looking over and slightly down at his friend. He had forgotten that he was now just a quarter of a head taller than his friend, but he slightly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now was a good time as any, to keep his promise to his wife – that he would tell Okita of what had happened last night.

He had meant to tell his friend about Akesato last night, but had emerged from the room and gone downstairs only to find the first floor completely wrecked. Okita had not been there, and the only answer he had received was that his friend was out patrolling. That particular word had brought back chilling memories of a darker, more violent time, but he managed to push it away. Wordlessly, he had joined in, in helping the proprietors of the Aoiya in cleaning the place, for he had felt quite guilty of the lack of thanks he had displayed since the Aoiya had taken him and his family in just after the poisonings of the children had begun.

He had been quite aware of the curious stares and looks of concern that he had received, but as soon as Susumu had returned, he had told them that Saya was awake. That news seemed to have brought a round of relief through everyone, and he realized that with all that had happened, even though he had not been privy to it and had been utterly engrossed with the health and safety of his family after the police station explosion, it had been the others' first piece of good news in a while.

Pulling out of his thoughts, he refocused himself to the present as he realized that Okita was patiently waiting for him to speak. “A shinobi snuck into our room last night,” he said. “She told us that Kitamura Suzu was holding my son hostage in exchange for some information. I have three days to get that information or else he's going to start killing more people. Since you're not working for Saitou, I thought you could help me in trying to obtain that information.”

He blinked as an opaque look settled over Okita's narrowed eyes, scaring him as he had forgotten just how frightening his friend could look with those seemingly lifeless, demonic eyes staring right back at him. Something that he said or a combination of what he had said had caused Okita to become quite angry. However, he managed to control his instincts to take a step back and held his ground. He needed his friend's help, he was _asking_ for help, nothing more.

“What information and from where?” Okita curtly asked.

“She told me that Kyoto's spymaster, Shinohara Tainoshin, has a list of all surviving Shinsengumi, and that they wanted it,” he answered.

“Tetsu-kun,” Okita quietly said after a moment, “I am going to ask you something and I need you to tell me the truth. What I need to know will have impacts on what is happening in Kyoto.”

Tetsu nodded, but a knot of fear had started to form in his stomach. He had never thought that what happened long ago would affect so much so far in the future.

“Do you know who is Kitamura Suzu and why he is after you?” came the question, almost whispered as if it was something unspeakable.

Very reluctantly, for he wasn't sure how his answer would affect his friendship with Okita, but knew that it was something that needed to be told, even though he thought that he would have never been reminded of it again, he nodded. However, he closed his eyes as he thought back to the past, unable to face his friend as he recounted what should have been considered a forbidden friendship. “Suzu...was my friend during the first few months that I was in the Shinsengumi. We met up a few times, from going to Hyogo to hanging out in Shimabara. However, under orders from his master, he tried to kill me the day of Ikedaya. He couldn't, but after Ikedaya, I never saw him again. I thought he died during the revolution. I don't understand why he tried to hurt my family, why he killed my daughter...”

Tetsu opened his eyes from his reminiscing to see that there was a stony look on Okita's face. Resisting the urge to shrink back again, he waited for a few long minutes before his friend asked, “In all that time, did you know who Kitamura Suzu's master was?”

“Until Ikedaya, no. All I remembered was a tall, dark-haired man who killed my parents. Until I saw Yoshida that day, I didn't know it was him and that he was Suzu's master,” he admitted.

“Is that why you asked him on that night why he was there and did not kill you?” Okita asked, his expression still stony, but the tone of his voice softer.

“Yes,” he said, nodding, “and I don't care what he said – that was him. That bastard killed my parents.”

“Tetsu-kun,” Okita said, his tone strangely heavy, “Kitamura Suzu is after you because he thinks that you killed his master.”

“But I didn't!” he protested. “You know that!”

“I do,” his friend answered, inclining his head slightly, “but he does not.”

A flood of horror filled his stomach as the knots twisted themselves even further. It had been Okita who had killed Yoshida, who had told him, Tetsu, to keep his promise of using his sword only to defend the people – to never kill. There had been only one time during the aftermath of Ikedaya that Tetsu had returned to the back of the inn to see the headless body of Yoshida before returning out front to join the other Shinsengumi members in their long march back to headquarters. As he thought back more, he had thought he heard sounds from the streets out back of the Ikedaya, but he had been too wrapped up in the surge of emotions running through him in the early hours of morning to pay attention. The only way Suzu would have been able to make the connection of him 'killing' Yoshida and not Okita who had actually done the job, was during that moment at dawn.

“Help me, Okita-san,” he pleaded, “please. I think I know how he thought I might've killed his master. I visited the dead body of Suzu's master before rejoining you that morning. I was trying to come to terms that what had plagued me for two years was now gone. I think he may have returned at that moment and saw me.”

“I will eventually have to tell Saitou-san about this,” Okita said. “I may not be working for him, but if Kyoto's spymaster does indeed have the list, and I try to help you obtain it, then word will eventually reach his ears.”

Tetsu momentarily closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a slight headache coming. Releasing his nose and opening his eyes after a few moments, he said, “There's no way around it, isn't there?”

Okita slowly shook his head, though even with his slightly softened stony look, he did offer a sympathetic pat on the back, saying, “We can assume with a great degree of certainty that everything from the poisoning of the children, to the police station explosion, is the work of Kitamura Suzu. To the police, your situation would be considered collateral, but I do not think it is.”

“But why would Suzu do such a thing? Why didn't he come after me right away? Why involve so many innocent people?”

“Let us return to the Aoiya, Tetsu-kun,” Okita said, “because what I need to tell you cannot be said on the streets. I will help you, but you will need to understand what is going on before we can start.”

“Thank you, Okita-san.”

* * *

Night had long fallen on yet another quiet day in Kyoto, and though her citizens were starting to relax from all that had happened, there was no quiet within Kenshin's mind and heart. His search with Aoshi at the temple-school had yielded no traces or clue of shinobi activity within the area, coupled with the news of what had happened at the Aoiya, and Misao's answer about Ichimura Tatsunosuke and his wife refusing to come to Kyoto – all of it was more bad news.

The only light of hope they had was the fact that Ichimura Tetsunosuke's wife, Saya, had woken up. Dr. Yamazaki had spent nearly the entire day ensuring that whatever injuries that Ichimura Saya had sustained in the attack was on the mend. A general relief had also blanketed the Aoiya, though there were still many patients who were still recovering and had not been ignored by those at the Aoiya.

It was during one of the times in which he had returned to the Aoiya in the day, after running a few errands for the old proprietor, that he had caught a glimpse of Saitou talking to one of the policemen who had had one of his legs amputated in the aftermath of the police station explosion, and had finally woken up. He had not lingered, for he knew that Saitou would not appreciate the intrusion at all. However, that one glimpse of the injured officer, who would not likely continue to serve in the police force when he got better, reminded him, Kenshin, again of the bloodier, more darker days.

This was different, much different than the fear and uncertainty he had when Shishio had virtually declared war on the Meiji government. One year ago, people were still out in the streets with barely a concern in their eyes and their conversations, but now, the streets were empty at night, and during the day, not many ventured out. The fear of Kyoto's hearty citizens was quite palpable, and even with the police force out and visibly patrolling, it felt like the old days – the days of the revolution. Whereas Shishio Makoto failed to strike a deep-seated fear into the hearts of people, Kitamura Suzu and Akesato had succeeded, and clearly, the people were not sure if their new government was able to quell the violence.

Unexpectedly, a meeting had been called by both Aoshi and Okita as soon as the two men had returned to the Aoiya from wherever they had been for the better part of the day. Saitou's reaction to the summon had been his usual closed expression, but Kenshin had seen the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes before it disappeared. Both men had also insisted that everyone at the Aoiya who had been involved in the poisoning investigation, the police station explosion, _and_ the attack on the Aoiya just last night, attend the meeting. _That_ had garnered some looks of curiosity, and though Kenshin was not happy that his wife was becoming more deeply involved, what had happened last night told him that there was no way he could stop her from involving herself even further. Their attackers were going to strike at any person they chose – Kitamura Suzu and Akesato were looking to inflict collateral damage to whatever they could – they did not have the same objective as Shishio Makoto had.

When all twelve of them; himself, Kaoru, Aoshi, Misao, Tokio, Saitou, the spymaster Aya, Yuki, Okita, Ichimura, Dr. Yamazaki, and the old proprietor of the Aoiya; had seated themselves around the table, Okita gestured for Ichimura to speak.

“Last night's attack was no fluke,” Ichimura began, his expression withdrawn, but Kenshin could see the hardened, almost angry look being expressed from the store-keeper's eyes. “While the Aoiya was being attacked downstairs, a shinobi managed to sneak into the second floor and into my room. She told me that in exchange for my son's life, Kyoto's spymaster, Shinohara Tainoshin, has a list of all surviving Shinsengumi members they want. She said that I have three, well, two now, days to get it, or else Suzu will kill my son and also start attacking more people.”

Kenshin held his tongue as he took a quick glance over at Saitou, who sat quite expressionless for a few moments, with his hands folded together. Next to him, with an equally blank look, was whom he thought was Kyoto's spymaster, Matsumoto Aya, who had not even raised an eyebrow at the statement. He was puzzled as to who exactly was this 'Shinohara Tainoshin' person, but he didn't say a word as Ichimura sat back down.

It chilled him to think that the attack last night was all for a blackmail attempt on Ichimura, but surely there was another way to rescue Ichimura's son? A list for the boy's life seemed quite odd to him, for he didn't understand why Kitamura would be after the Shinsengumi in particular, especially since Kenshin understood that the pale-haired man clearly only had a grudge against Ichimura. He also knew that no matter what, Saitou was not going to give up secrets, and Ichimura was smart enough to know that.

“They're going to attack Kyoto in two days, then,” Saitou finally said, steepling his hands slightly. “Those five policemen must've stopped the Kyoto-based foreign agents from their incursion into Tokyo.”

“Precisely,” Aoshi spoke up. “It was the same conclusion that myself, Okita-sensei, and Ichimura have come up with earlier. We secured hawks and I sent a message off to two areas, requesting help. However, I am unsure if help will come, for the alliance that the Oniwabanshuu made with these two groups of people long ago has not been visited upon since the deaths of both our former _Okashira_ 's first and second wives.”

Kenshin was not the only one that was slightly confused, and it was only through the clarification from Kashiwazaki, who had narrowed his eyes slightly, that Kenshin finally began to understand just how convoluted things were. The old proprietor said, “That alliance was already on shaky grounds, Aoshi. The last time Iga clansmen and Kouga clansmen united and helped us was well before my time. Those marriages that our former _Okashira_ made were only for convenience and to bolster our numbers in exchange for teaching new techniques that we've developed; it was not to reaffirm any alliance. They didn't respond to thirty-years of our people being killed by Fuuma clansmen, or to Edo's call for help, or to Kyoto's requests during the revolution. It's a good idea, but I'm afraid that those hawks you sent will return with the letters unopened.”

“That is why I added a missive of my own,” Okita spoke up, giving both Aoshi and Kashiwazkai a leveled look. “I do not have the knowledge that Shinomori-san or other shinobi may possess, but I am well aware of the times in history in which the people were protected not by samurai, but by those who walk in the shadows. All I wrote was to remind them of history, nothing more. I do not think my words will have much effect, but I can only hope that they will.”

Kenshin frowned slightly at the arrogance, but as he saw Kashiwazaki nod after a moment, he realized that it was not arrogance that had caused Okita to say that, but quite an extensive knowledge of history that could only be obtained with education. High-born samurai families were the only ones to obtain an extensive amount of education befitting their place within the ranks. He knew that even though most samurai were educated and could read and write, most did not pursue knowledge, such as studying historical texts that involved others that were not strictly within the tenants of Bushido or could further their way of following the code. His own talks with Katsura and others in the Ishinshishi told him that much.

Katsura had told him that shinobi were considered the unclean within the rigid societal class that governed the Shogunate. Very few ever showed themselves in public, and even then, most were treated quite badly. The only shinobi to ever achieve respect and fame from not only the commoners but also from the nobles was Hattori Masanari, more commonly known as Hattori Hanzou. Kenshin had only heard of this legendary shinobi when Katsura had mentioned it in an oblique context to when he had first learned of the Oniwabanshuu who protected Edo.

The fact that Okita of all people, had knowledge of shinobi, especially their history, surprised him. However, that surprise was short-lived; he should have expected it, for Okita was Shinsengumi, and the Shinsengumi were quite an unconventional group for the time. Kenshin had studied his enemies very carefully during the revolution, and he had quite a great amount of respect for the Shinsengumi's members, especially with the knowledge that the commander of the Shinsengumi, Kondou Isami, had been a small dojo master. Their capable vice-commander, Hijikata Toshizou, had been a medicine peddler – a commoner. To have risen so far in the ranks of samurai, perpetually stagnant in class warfare, and had even received the blessing of the Shogunate to continue their operations in Kyoto – Kenshin had a developed quite a healthy amount of respect for them outside of battle. The Shinsengumi matched the Ishinshishi in every respect.

However, in that quick analysis, Kenshin was also quite aware that Saitou did not look pleased at all, and noted that there seemed to be a slight strain between the former Third and First Unit captains. It was the same kind of feeling he had sensed yesterday when he had seen both former captains leave the Aoiya to start their patrols. He knew that Saitou was not one to wrest control over everything, for that was not how the man operated at all, but Kenshin could not understand why Saitou was not pleased with what Aoshi and Okita had done. The police needed help in combating the strange creatures, so why was Saitou not happy about potential help arriving, even if by a long shot?

“You said that the shinobi told you that 'Shinohara Tainoshin' had a list, Ichimura,” Saitou continued as if he had not been interrupted earlier. “Did the shinobi tell you why they wanted a list of all surviving Shinsengumi?”

“No,” Ichimura said, shaking his head slightly. “She just said that they know that Kyoto's spymaster has a list of all surviving Shinsengumi.”

“Then that confirms what we've long thought,” Matsumoto said, inclining her head slightly. “They've already had agents implanted within our networks for a while. I can also confirm know they don't have as accurate information as we thought they would have. It's a cover that will need to be discarded once we rebuild, but Shinohara Tainoshin was created as a fronted alias for Kyoto's police spy division.”

“So there's no list?” Ichimura said, leaning forward so fast that Dr. Yamazaki, sitting next to him, had put a hand on Ichimura's shoulder to prevent him from getting up.

“There's a list,” Matsumoto answered. “It's in here.” The spymaster had tapped her head with a finger, and Kenshin saw despair flash across Ichimura's face before it was overtaken by anger. However, before Ichimura could say anything, Dr. Yamazaki had clamped a hand over Ichimura's mouth to prevent him from speaking and had pinned him down into his seat with his other hand on his shoulder.

Ichimura struggled slightly, in the doctor's grip, but before the spectacle could go any further, Saitou said, “That woman, Akesato, must have survived and turned back. She would be the one one that we know of who would request such a thing. How she managed to convince Kitamura and who is actually in control of their forces is another matter.”

“But why?” Misao interrupted, “who is this Akesato woman and why would she want to attack Kyoto when clearly they just want this list in exchange for their hostage?”

“Because the Shinsengumi killed her lover, Yamanami Keisuke,” Okita quietly said.

“So is that light-haired woman that Aoshi-sama was spying on at the docks the same Akesato as all of you are taking about?”

“Wait, light-haired woman?” Kenshin heard Dr. Yamazaki interrupt as the doctor let Ichimura go from the confining hold. Surprisingly, Ichimura did not say anything, but was clearly glaring daggers at both Saitou and Matsumoto. Okita had a worried look on his face, but had turned his attention to Dr. Yamazaki's question.

“Light-haired, blue-eyes, quite tall, and speaks with an impeccable Kyoto-accent,” Aoshi supplied. “We haven't seen her or the other western people in the shop since the fire. I can only assume that they are those foreign agents.”

“If that is the same woman, and she leads or at least is allied with the Fuuma shinobi, then I may have fought her before, long ago,” the doctor stated, turning quite pale.

“When?” Matsumoto asked, beating Saitou to the punch.

“Twice,” Yamazaki said, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Once when my cover was blown and my sister had to step in to take over my duties, and the second time was during Ikedaya before I could light the firework marker. The first time, she had two or three other Fuuma shinobi with her. The second time, she fought me, one-on-one.”

“And you didn't kill her?” The tone that Matsumoto had asked her question was not accusatory, but neither was it comforting. Instead, it was simply a statement that needed to be confirmed.

“My priority was to light the firework and get help to those at Ikedaya,” the doctor answered. “She had said that the Fuuma abandoned her and that next time we met, she was most likely not going to be shinobi anymore.”

If anyone was going to accuse the doctor of making a mistake so long ago, no one did, but Kenshin could see that Yamazaki now regretted his actions from so long ago. He understood and sympathized with the doctor, for it was almost the same kind of feeling he had, for what he should have done when he realized that Kitamura Suzu was a threat.

“The mistake for what is happening right now is also this one's fault,” he spoke up, drawing what he thought was unfairly accusatory eyes of both Saitou and Matsumoto from Yamazaki towards him. “After Kitamura lost his master, Yoshida Toshimaro, this one's employer, Katsura Kogoro, took him in as his page. After this one rejoined the Ishinshishi as a free-wheeling swordsman, whenever Katsura was not available, this one reported to Kitamura. This one found it strange at first, that Kitamura kept asking if I ever encountered, you, Ichimura-san, in battle. This one eventually found out that it was because he thought you, Ichimura-san, had killed his master. The violence and thirst for revenge had consumed him that that was all he could think about. Unfortunately, this one too was consumed by this one's own demons and thus had not seen how much of a threat Kitamura posed not only to himself, but also to the Ishinshishi and others. This one left the Ishinshishi during the battle at Toba-Fushimi and had not had much contact with others in the Ishinshishi. However, this one eventually heard that Kitamura had traveled to the Republic of Ezo and had presumably died during the battle at Hakodate. This one humbly apologizes for the mistakes made so long ago, and for not stopping Kitamura when this one had the chance.”

“I don't know what demons could possibly plague someone like you, Himura-san,” Tetsu spoke up after a few moments of silence, “but had it not been for me running into him all those years ago and befriending him, perhaps none of this would have happened.”

Kenshin saw Saitou pinch the bridge of his nose slightly as the policeman closed his eyes briefly and opened them again, folding his hands together. Instead of what he had assumed Saitou would berate Ichimura quite severely about just how ignorant and stupid the young man had been during the revolution in trying to be friends with a member of the Ishinshishi, he, Kenshin, was surprised at the neutral tone that the policeman took. “When and where did you first run into Kitamura?”

“The day I tried out to join the Shinsengumi,” Ichimura truthfully answered. “I ran into him across the last bridge at the edge of the city before entering Mibu village. That's also where the shinobi said that the exchange for my son would take place. Are you going to help me?”

The silence that fell across the table was quite uncomfortable, and even though a few shifted in their chairs, all eyes were on the Saitou and Matsumoto. Kenshin felt Kaoru's hand slip into his under the table, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He briefly glanced over with his eyes and saw the resolute determination within his wife's eyes. No matter what, both he and his wife were going to help Ichimura get his son back. He could see that most others at the table had the same kind of look – they would all help – all except for the policeman and spymaster.

“Okaa--” Yuki began, but fell silent as the spymaster reached back and pulled an ink block, brush, and paper from the table behind her and set it down.

Dipping the brush into the ink, she started to write on the paper, saying, “I'm assuming that the shinobi also threatened you with the promise of retaliation if you brought a list and it turned out to be false, Ichimura.” Ichimura silently nodded as the spymaster glanced up and then back down to her paper as she continued to say, “They also assumed that you would tell us, which means, they're going to expect us to put up a fight. We can't be sure if Osaka is secured and safe enough for them to send troops here, so we're on our own.”

“We can rally the people here like we did last year!” Misao said, with quite a bit of enthusiasm. “We stopped Shishio from burning Kyoto; we can rally them again.”

As much as Kenshin wanted to join in, in the young woman's enthusiastic response to the defense of Kyoto, he couldn't bring himself to. This time was different – the people and the confidence within the city was virtually gone. Streets normally filled with tourists, vendors, and the natives were considerably less crowded than it should have been for this time of year. Night time was even worse, with only the sounds of police patrols crunching on the dirt streets being drowned out by the summertime crickets. Fear was choking the city and slowly killing her people.

No one, not even the old proprietor could match Misao's upbeat words; their eyes told them that they knew that the citizens of Kyoto could not be counted on this time for a last-ditch effort to defend their home. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. However, even in the midst of despair, it was Aoshi, who quietly spoke up, saying, “We, the Oniwabanshuu will convince the people to defend their homes. What do you need us to do?”

Kenshin saw a faint wolfish smile on Saitou's face that mirrored the same one on the spymaster's and realized that despite all that had happened, Saitou and possibly Matsumoto already had plans in work and just needed reassurance from the residents of the Aoiya that they would be supporting those plans. It was also then he realized that though there was confidence within the group, the police still kept their secrets within their own personnel. After the station explosion, their trust in all who worked with them had been shattered. This had been a crucible for the Oniwabanshuu to pass through – to allow Saitou and Matsumoto to ensure that the shinobi they worked with were still trustworthy.

“First,” the policeman said, “what happens if we don't make the exchange in two days, Ichimura?”

“I told you,” Ichimura answered, quite annoyed, yet relieved that help was coming for his son. “They start attacking. Poisoning. Whatever.”

“Specifics,” Saitou curtly said. “Otherwise you would've already attempted to write a half-assed list of people with made-up names and locations. And I know you would've have helped him, Okita.”

“They start killing people,” Ichimura quietly said, glancing over at him, Kenshin. “Specifically, the shinobi said that they'll first target Himura Kaoru's unborn child.”

Ice-cold fury swept over his senses as he found himself coolly staring at Ichimura, wanting to lunge right at the man and rip his throat out with the claws of Hiten Mitsurugi. Ichimura had admitted fault to having befriended Kitamura, which in his mind, had started the entire chain of events. Each passing moment since those words that the man had uttered, the threat that had been leveled on his wife, caused his fury to grow deeper and colder, giving him a well of strength to draw from. It was a soft cry of pain from his left, the familiar sound of his wife that caused him to blink and look over to see that there was an uncomfortable look on Kaoru's face.

With a start, he immediately let go of her hand under the table, realizing that his anger had overtaken him and that it had caused him to almost crush her hand in his grip. He could feel the anger recede, the red haze that had blanketed his senses start to fade, only to look up and see at least three pairs of eyes narrowed and alert for danger. Two pairs belong to the Wolves of Mibu, Saitou and Okita, and the third pair belong to the spymaster, whom he could see, but realized that he could not feel her presence. Others around the table were staring at him with either a mixture of fear or bravery.

It was the glittering dark eyes from both Saitou and Okita that told him what had happened in that short moment, and even though he knew that he had found a way to retain his strength and conviction while not reverting back to the hitokiri side of him, he had utterly failed in this particular instance. Kaoru's life had been threatened before by Yukishirou Enishi, and back then, he had not given himself to the clutches of the hitokiri side of him, but this...this was different.

Enishi was a swordsman and had used the skills of those allied with him to swap out Kaoru's body – it had been only through the efforts of Aoshi that he had woken up from his despair. It had been a physical blow, something that could have been anticipated, had he known what Enishi was planning. This, however, the threat of a poison that both the police and the Oniwabanshuu still could not entirely figure out how it was administered, especially the fact that the poison had targeted an unborn child and killed it, with the mother as collateral damage – this was a strike that would have him jumping at the shadows, second-guessing himself, and ultimately, may not have the skills to prevent his wife and their child from being killed.

He had vowed to protect the new era with his sakabatou and his skills in his sword style, and up until the poisonings started, he had been successful. Was his heart so afraid to fail that he had reverted back into the hitokiri he once had been? Was he so afraid that he would not be able to protect Kaoru and their child like he had failed in protecting Tomoe?

“I...apologize” he said, pushing back his chair, wanting to leave to go meditate on his troubling thoughts.

“Stay,” the spymaster said, and in less than a blink of an eye, he could feel her presence again. Though the spymaster had not worded it as a command, there was something about the word itself that told him that despite his despair at what had just happened, he owed it to Ichimura to continue to plan out the city's defense.

“Assuming there isn't anything else,” Saitou continued, quite annoyed at all the interruptions, “This is what we know so far about their people and plans. The prisoner that we interrogated last night, repeatedly told us that he and others like him were forcefully conscripted into serving, though it is most likely a lie just to keep himself alive. Unfortunately, he was killed when we tried to follow a lead.”

“How?” Yamazaki asked.

“He seemed to have been possessed by one of those creatures,” Aoshi spoke up, frowning slightly. “He said that the others and him were also there to test the defenses of the city. At the contact area, a shadow-creature came and possessed him, most likely ripping every single information that he had on our defenses here before disappearing. Following it was impossible.”

“We have two days to prepare,” Saitou said, as Yamazaki nodded, seemingly satisfied with the short, but vague answer. “They move locations often, which means that we cannot outright attack them before then and can only set up defenses. How many were killed on the road when you and Battousai encountered them, Okita?”

“None,” the swordsman answered. However, before the shock around the table could fully settle in at the fact that not one of the fifty shinobi that tried to ambush him, Kenshin, along with Okita, Misao, and Yuki, the First Unit captain continued, saying, “But most of them have broken bones and cannot walk, much less run. It was for the sanity and peace of the people living in that area that no one was killed.”

Though there was a clear amount of displeasure in the policeman's eyes as Kenshin caught the policeman's glare at him, he matched it with his own. He knew that Okita had other motives for not killing during that skirmish, one of them being not to break the law, but he had enough respect for the First Unit captain to not question his motives.

Breaking off the glare after a moment, Kenshin heard Saitou say, “I'll pretend I just did not hear that. There are those I know who sit around this table who have no qualms about killing to protect. Do what ever you need to, to neutralize the enemies. You are to set aside any personal grudges and first and foremost, protect the people of Kyoto.”

There was a brief moment of silence that fell across the table before Kenshin saw Matsumoto give a curt nod that was followed by both Okita and Yamazaki. Surprisingly, he saw Aoshi glance over towards Kashiwazaki as both shinobi inclined their heads slightly. Tokio was the next to agree, and reluctantly, Ichimura nodded too. Before the others could agree to the sentinment, he said, “We'll do what we need to, Saitou, in our own way without the need to kill.”

He held his gaze level with the ex-Shinsengumi's wolfish glare for a moment before Saitou asked, “Ichimura, you know Kitamura the best. How many shinobi do you think he will have with him at the hostage exchange?”

Put on the spot, Kenshin saw the man splutter for a moment before saying, “I really don't know. He wasn't crazy back then. Half?”

Kenshin could almost imagine Saitou muttering 'aho', except for the fact that instead of saying that phrase, he saw the policeman pull out a cigarette from a pocket and light it up. As much as he wanted to volunteer to be a part of the group that would rescue Ichimura's son, he was also worried about Kaoru. He couldn't leave her alone, now that there was a clear threat against her that he was sure Kitamura would carry out, regardless of the result of the hostage exchange.

“I would like to be a part of the group--” Okita began.

“No,” Yamazaki immediately said, surprising even Saitou for a moment. “You're staying here.” The doctor pinned both him, Kenshin, and Okita with an intense stare that spoke volumes as the doctor continued, saying, “I don't have to remind either you, Himura-san, or you, Okita-sensei, of what may happen _if_ both of you push yourselves where there may be no one to back you up.”

“Shinomori, myself, and Ichimura will make the exchange,” Saitou said, interrupting the doctor. “The rest of you will be defending the city.”

“I'm coming with you, Hajime,” Tokio spoke up. Kenshin could hear the steel in the tone of her voice, but his brief curiosity as to why Saitou's wife wanted to go was quashed as the elegant woman continued. “I have had experience with a hostage situation before. The child will be frightened, and if the three of you happen to engage in battle, you will need someone else to calm the child down and take him to safety. This is not up for discussion.”

Kenshin could see that she told the truth in her eyes, and knew that Saitou could also tell that there was no lie in his wife's eyes. Despite wanting to try to sway Tokio from going on such a potentially dangerous exchange, he dared not interfere in the lives of Saitou Hajime and his wife. It was definitely not his place to, and for everything that Tokio had done last night, he knew with confidence that the woman was quite capable of taking care of herself and protecting someone such as a child.

“Besides the Oniwabanshuu, Himura-san and Okita-sensei both have far greater experiences and knowledge of Kyoto, and will be able to coordinate the defense of the city much better than I can. Messages relayed by Misao-chan and her people, along with those in the police force will be interpreted faster with them,” Tokio said.

The cigarette hanging on the mouth of Saitou moved slightly as he snorted slightly and seemingly satisfied, Kenshin watched Tokio sink back slightly into her seat. There was an interesting dynamic between husband and wife, but as quick as it had appeared, it dissappeared and the publicly respectful distance between the two was back. “We know that they can and probably will be attacking with summoned-creatures. They'll probably also deploy that debilitating fog as an equal measure, which means we will need to set to defend from fix points until those summoning the fog can be neutralized. We cannot depend on the fact that messages were sent out to those alliances that the Oniwabanshuu once had. We also have a few rifles left but very limited ammunition and gunpowder to give to our marksmen.”

“Then we'll need people who can administer medical aid,” Yamazaki spoke up, “since this is most likely going to be fought either with fists, legs, or sword.”

Saitou nodded, as he said, “Any civilian willing and able to, I will need you and other doctors around the city to train them in basic aid.”

Kenshin watched as Yamazaki nodded to the request but then settled his eyes on Misao, saying, “With your permission, _Okashira_ , I would also like to train you on basic pressure point aid.”

“What, why?” Misao asked, puzzled. “Han'nya taught me long ago and told me how to transfer that to my throwing knives.”

“Every shinobi knows certain pressure points to hit to stop bleeding or to kill someone,” Kashiwazaki rumbled from beside Kenshin. “Han'nya never taught all of it to you, because we thought it was not necessary, given the peace. However, that's change. The Fuuma clan are the best at pressure point attacks, and should you find yourself or any civilian in harm's way or under that sort of attack, you will need to know the correct places to hit to stop someone from bleeding out or to allow them to breathe again.”

Misao's puzzled expression faltered for a moment before determination rose in her eyes and she said, “I'll do it.”

“Is there anything else we need to know about the Fuuma clansmen, besides their unusual abilities?” Saitou asked, looking back and forth between Aoshi and the old proprietor.

“Nothing that years of a deep-seated grudge between the Oniwabanshuu and their clan cannot resolve,” Yamazaki bitterly said.

“But, we'll defend the city, first and foremost,” Kashiwazaki immediately said, placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

“Does that affect us?” Saitou asked.

“It won't,” the spymaster answered, glancing up from her writing, though Kenshin could clearly see anger in her eyes. “Kyoto and her people will be protected, no matter what.”

Saitou took a puff of his cigarette before dropping the end of it to the floor and quashed it with a heel. “Kyoto's defense plan...” he began.

Kenshin remained silent as the next phase of the meeting began. He would listen to the plans, but like many around the table, they knew that they could only plan for the initial attack and not the battle that would rage after it. Instead, he glanced over at Kaoru who looked back at him, worry lining her face, but not her eyes. Instead, her eyes spoke of forgiveness for what he had done to her earlier, and he could feel a small amount of the heavy weight in his heart lift.

As he looked around the table, it was those of the Oniwabanshuu, who were contributing most to the discussion. Though he was curious as to what exactly had happened to the Oniwabanshuu before the dawn of the new era, he knew that it was not his place to pry for information. It had also not escaped his notice that both Misao and Yuki were initially puzzled by the lack of explanation for the history of their family. Misao, now was quite vocally contributing to the defensive plan, while Yuki was just sitting quietly, absorbing the entire scene around him. He knew that neither of the two would let the matter of the history drop, but he understood that it was something that none of the adults wanted to pass on to the next generation.

None of them wanted the next generation to suffer as they had. All of them, though, were ready to stop Kitamura and Akesato before more could be hurt.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the enormous exposition. It needed to be written to set up for the final few chapters. From here on out, it should be mostly battles being written with the occasional pause for a quick breather. Next chapter should be out in a week or two (real-life has been interfering for a while, so the next chapter is being written as quickly as possible).


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_Year: Summer, 1879_

 

_Two days later..._

 

With the sun beginning to set, casting its golden-orange rays across the skies, it was on the rooftops of the Aoiya that Aoshi found his former master sitting, staring out into the city. She was already dressed in the black clothes of a typical shinobi, a far cry from the stylish, yet still practical blue uniform that those of the Aoiya had worn last year during the battle against the Juppongatana. It was more for tactical purposes that he had also forgone his own dark blue outfit he had worn during the battle against Yukishirou Enishi and his cohorts on the island, and had chosen to bring out of retirement, a version of the uniform he had worn while serving the Shinsengumi. The black cloth would match those that the Fuuma shinobi wore, and thus would enable him to easily confuse any who were at the hostage exchange site.

“Sensei,” he respectfully greeted his former master as he sat down next to her.

“No solidarity with the Aoiya?” Matsumoto asked, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

“Tactical,” he answered, knowing that she was asking about his outfit.

“Misao will be disappointed,” she said, and he could see a faint smile on her lips. “She did say to me once that she liked it whenever she saw you in the blue uniform.”

A slight heat of embarrassment from the comment crept up his face, but he deflected the emotion with a practical assessment to the current situation, saying, “Iga and Kouga did not respond to our call for help.”

“No,” Matsumoto agreed. “It was a long shot, Aoshi.”

“We are just about ready to leave then,” he said, standing back up.

“Understood,” she said, finally taking her eyes off the horizon and looked up at him. “I will be down shortly with the list.”

Giving his former master a nod, he left and climbed down into the second floor of the Aoiya through the hidden rooftop entrance. He had long theorized that the foreign kunoichi, Akesato, had used this entrance to get in and blackmail Ichimura. As soon as the battle was over and won, those at the Aoiya would have to ensure that this entrance was completely sealed and that another constructed.

As he strolled through the second floor, the presences of the patients who had been staying at the Aoiya to recover was fewer than it had been. Most who could be moved, had been moved to other locations, for the Aoiya would most likely be one of the places that would be directly stormed. Patients who could not have been moved to other areas had had additional wooden structures placed within the room to provide as much support as possible, should something like what the Juppongatana had done to the restaurant-inn happen again.

Near the foot of the stairs on the first floor, he stopped and took in the scene before him: the old proprietor, dressed in the dark-blue uniform that he had worn last year in their brief battle, was examining his weapons. Gathered near him were Misao, Kuroujou, Oumime, Masukami, and Shiroujou, all of whom were also checking their primary weapons. Misao had not noticed him yet, but he was not about to announce his presence to her.

Surprisingly, he saw Okita, Ichimura, and Himura standing a bit ways away, deep in conversation, but both Okita and Himura were readily alert for any sudden attacks. Himura's wife was also deep in conversation with Saitou's wife, though it looked as if the two women were allowing Yukimura to listen in. The two women had discarded their colorful summer yukata for more practical clothing, with both in light-colored uwagi and dark-colored hakama. Whereas Saitou's wife had a sheathed naginata strapped to her back, Himura's wife had a wooden sword in her grip. Yukimura was also dressed appropriately and had his bokken sitting where a normal sword would have been on his body. Truth be told, he was more confident of Yukimura's abilities to defend himself than he was of Himura's wife. Despite hearing of what happened last year in the fight between the Juppongatana and those at the Aoiya, he attributed the successful defeat of the Juppongatana as luck.

Finally, Saitou was standing away from the clusters, with a lit cigarette in between fingers on one hand, and a piece of paper he was reading on the other. Aoshi scanned the room again – Yamazaki was not present. Where the doctor was, he didn't know, but it seemed that no one else on the first floor was concerned, so he did not worry.

“Aoshi-sama!” Misao's exclamation broke the buzz of conversations and he stepped down the remaining stairs as the young woman ran up to him and embraced him. As uncomfortable as he was with this public display of affection, he understood why the young woman he had watched growing up and also grew to love, did what she did. Her spirit was free and uncontaminated by the blood of war and of all the nightmarish activities that those of the Oniwabanshuu before her had done. It was her carefree innocence and endless well of strength in the face of adversity that had drawn him to her, and after Shishio's rampage, he had vowed to both protect her and to never make her cry again.

He was fortunate, though, to be saved from further embarrassment by his former master, who had deliberately walked past him and Misao with some noise in her footsteps. Misao let him go and watched with curiosity as her aunt approached and handed over a folded piece of paper to Ichimura, who took it quite gingerly.

“Every name and location on this list is true, Ichimura,” the spymaster said.

“May I open it?”

Aoshi was quite surprised at the deference in Ichimura's question, and it was then that he understood that despite Ichimura's son being taken hostage, Ichimura truly had not wanted to give up such a list to the enemy – to not trade the life of one for many who just wanted a small measure of peace in their lives. He watched as his former master nodded, and Ichimura carefully unfolded the list, revealing the painfully short amount of names written upon the paper. He, Aoshi had already seen the list, as had Susumu, when it had been rewritten for the final time, and the three shinobi had agreed upon to what had been written.

“But...why?” Ichimura asked, carefully folding the paper back up, and Aoshi knew that he had seen four names that would not normally have been written or associated with the Shinsengumi. History would tell of the swordsmen who served in the notorious group, but not of the four shinobi who ensured that every raid or skirmish undertaken was successful. It was a gamble that they were taking that by putting the four shinobi who served and survived into this new era, would hopefully give those seeking revenge against the Shinsengumi a pause.

“If they want to come after the Shinsengumi, they'll have us to contend with us too,” Susumu said, as Aoshi saw the doctor walk in from the back of the Aoiya, carrying two pieces of paper. Instead of the dark-colored summer yukata he had worn for the past days he had been here, Aoshi couldn't help but smile slightly, seeing an old friend and comrade take up the black cloth of a shinobi again. Even the doctor's hair had been put up in its familiar spiky-looking style from long ago.

“But--” Ichimura began.

“No complaining, Tetsu,” the doctor stated. “They picked a fight with the wrong people.” Stopping before Aoshi, Susumu handed over the two letters, saying, “The letters that were attached on the hawks came back.”

Aoshi nodded, accepting the letters as Saitou wordlessly pushed himself from the column he had been leaning against and made his way out of the Aoiya. That was the signal to go, and as the policeman passed both him and Misao, he followed, forgoing one last look at the young woman he loved. It would do him no good to look back, for he needed his head clear and ready. Saitou's wife followed behind him, and last to exit the Aoiya was Ichimura.

“Good hunting,” he heard Susumu say.

Together, with the summer heat dying and the nighttime insects starting to chirp, the four of them started down the dusty dirt road, towards Mibu village.

* * *

Susumu saw a somewhat melancholic, yet hopeful gait that Tetsu had adopted as he walked out of the Aoiya to save his son. There was a certainty that everyone would be facing death today, but there was also the hope that the plan that Saitou had coordinated with between those of the Oniwabanshuu, the police, and those with no allegiance to either groups but fought for the peace, would prevail.

“Do you need weapons?”

He turned around to see Shiroujou holding out a proffered hand that contained four throwing knives. Grateful for the knives, he took them and nodded his thanks. His old uniform, though a bit snug in some places, had been given to the Oniwabanshuu before they had left Edo all those years ago. It had been the old man who had given him back the uniform only a few hours earlier, and he had outfitted himself in it before taking a few test laps around Kyoto's rooftops, getting used to it again. However, he had come to Kyoto without the usual arsenal that a shinobi carried, thus he was left at the mercy of whatever he could scrounge up during battle. Now though, he had at least four throwing knives.

“Take these,” Oumime shyly spoke up from beside him and he saw her offering four more blades. Grateful, he took them and added it to his arsenal, placing them in the usual areas where he remembered were the best for movement and quick draw. Though it had been over ten years since he last fought as a shinobi, the memories were returning quite quickly.

“Hey, Susumu, catch!”

He looked up just in time to neatly pluck out of the air, a sheathed short blade that had been thrown at him. There was a faint grin on Aya's face as she gave him a nod to take the blade before tucking the lower half of her face into the familiar cloth that would disguise a shinobi from being identified. It was a bit warm for such a stifling cloth, even with night fast approaching, but both he and Aya were quite well-versed in subversive methods that would be employed in the upcoming battle.

Securing the short blade to the side of his outfit, he also pulled up his covering cloth and tied the back of it tight. With eight throwing knives and a short blade, he was armed enough to at least initially defend himself. He would be able to scavenge other types of weaponry when the battle got underway.

With a nod of affirmation, both he and the spymaster of Kyoto left, with no words needing to be spoken to the rest at the Aoiya. Everyone had said their last words to each other earlier in the day, and now with minds focused on the defense of the city, each knew their role to play.

The Oniwabanshuu, with Misao leading them and the old man backing her up would be in charge of the defense at the Aoiya and her surrounding streets. The probability that the Aoiya would be ground zero for a fierce battle was about 50%, but that was what the police would be there for. The police, with both him and Aya coordinating, would draw attackers towards areas that would be able to hopefully withstand and survive attacks. Most tourists and residents were staying in the streets surrounding the Aoiya, as were patients who still did not recover fully from the explosion.

Himura's wife would also be staying with the Oniwabanshuu, defending and helping care for any wounded. Yukimura would be helping her, with him, Susumu, having asked the young boy to render medical assistance. It had not been the request of the boy's mother that he had asked Yukimura to be a temporary field medic, but his own conviction. The boy was not strong or fast enough to enter a real battle just yet, but the boy still had skills that could be put to good use.

Okita and Himura would be a part of the defense that ringed the outer area of the Oniwabanshuu's ability to relay information quickly. The two, even though were fighting in a limited capacity, would also be on the lookout for any shadow-creatures. Having assessed the abilities as best as possible of the creatures, given what little they knew, if the two engaged any creature, the information could be relayed and either him or Aya, would attempt to kill the enemy shinobi summoning it. Given what had happened in the previous year, Susumu knew that Saitou was not been entirely confident of the current Oniwabanshuu's abilities to kill a target, having heard him mention it in a private meeting. The ex-Shinsengumi's faith in those who were able to permanently dispatch enemies lied only with Aya, Okita, Aoshi, Tokio, and him.

He, Susumu, had not killed during the events of Ikedaya, having let Akesato escape, but his faith in that foreign kunoichi had proved to be misplaced. He would not make the same mistake ever again.

* * *

“Your daughter is alive,” Saitou said, just as the three of them passed through the last of the densely populated areas in the ancient city and started to encounter farmland. Though the land changed little throughout the years, Saitou remembered that it had been more expansive as they got closer to the first home of the Shinsengumi. Slowly, industrialization and the import of western supplies was causing Kyoto to expand into the fields.

He heard Ichimura slow down slightly, but did not bother to match pace with the man. He could feel his wife's displeasure at the single comment he had said, and nothing from Shinomori. He had not wanted to inform Ichimura of his daughter's status before the exchange, but the turmoil within the former page was quite acute and he knew that it would cause problems during the exchange if he did not temper it. He had wanted to berate the former page for his stupidity in trying to befriend an Ishinshishi member during the revolution, but he had been sure that others had already done that work. There was no need for him to waste his breath in calling Ichimura a moron.

He did not need Ichimura to mess up his plan that had been modified since receiving the news about the blackmail on Ichimura. It had annoyed him to no end about what had happened, but if all went well at the exchange, Kitamura would either be arrested or dead by his hand. People like Kitamura would never be given a second chance, unlike the Juppongatana. He had given his report on the survivors of the Juppongatana to the government with the recommendation of execution, but the government had been merciful...but then again, none except for perhaps for the still-loose Seta Soujirou, had done terrible damage to Japan and her people.

“You bastard,” he heard Ichimura say as the man completely stopped walking. As tempted as he was to continue walking without the former page, the exchange would not work without Ichimura there.

Stopping, he turned and pinned Ichimura with an irritated glare, ready to receive whatever vitriol the hot-headed man was about to spew. However, after a few moments, he realized that Ichimura was not going to say another word, and surprisingly, started walking again. Just as the man caught up with him, he turned and the four of them continued to walk.

“Where is my daughter?” Ichimura asked.

“Safe,” he answered, unwilling to say anything further. Matsumoto had been the one to confirm only a day ago that Ichimura's daughter was indeed, in safe hands, and he was not willing to disclose the location until this crisis was over. The less people, including Ichimura, knew of the location of where the girl was, the less the information would get out to the enemy. Rescuing one hostage was enough, Saitou did not want to deal with two, especially with an impending invasion.

“Thank you,” Ichimura suddenly said, surprising Saitou as he glanced over to see that there was a slight straightening of Ichimura's back, and his gait was more confident. The mindset of the former page was now much more confident and relieved, and that was going to give Saitou an advantage.

A few minutes later, Ichimura started to slow down as the four of them approached the final bridge that connected the primary road from the outskirts of the Mibu village to Kyoto's city proper. Standing quite confidently on the highest part of the bridge, was a pale-haired man and a boy who looked quite unkempt. Saitou could only assume that the pale-haired man was Kitamura, though he briefly wondered if it was in the nature of people to have their dark hair turn pale whenever seeking revenge against a red-headed person.

Kitamura looked nothing like the brash and muscular Yukishirou Enishi, but the wolf within him compared Kitamura more to a snake than to the tiger that had been Yukishirou. However, while the left hand of Kitamura was resting comfortably on a dark-red scabbard sword at his side, the right hand of the pale-haired man was holding a rope. Saitou narrowed his eyes slightly as he followed the rope to the boy standing at the side of Kitamura. That thick rope was looped around the boy's neck, and even from the angle he was seeing it, he had no doubt that one quick jerk of the rope would instantly tighten the rope around the boy's neck, either strangling him or snapping his neck with enough force.

He glanced over at Shinomori, and having since stepping out of the Aoiya, he no longer felt the ex- _Okashira_ 's presence. There was a minute movement in Shinomori's eyes that told him that the shinobi had not sensed any other intruders in the area. That meant that either enemy shinobi were under the bridge or hidden under the water in the rice paddy fields, ready to ambush the four of them, or that confident, Kitamura had come completely alone. He hoped it was the former, for if estimates were correct, Kyoto would not be able to withstand a siege coming from a shinobi clan with strange abilities that could fell even the best swordsmen.

“Otousan!” the boy cried out as soon as he saw them, though the cry was weaker than Saitou had expected.

“My dear and old friend, Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” Kitamura said as the four of them stopped at the foot of the bridge. “I'm surprised that you've managed to convince both the infamous Shinsengumi Third Unit Captain Saitou Hajime, and disgraced Shinomori Aoshi of the Oniwabanshuu to help someone as cowardly and pathetic as you.” Kitamura glanced over at Tokio, before saying, “The Saitou Hajime I heard of would also never put his wife in harm's way. I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here, Tetsu dear, but whatever it is, it will not work.”

“Does every person you've fought against, do this, Hajime?” Tokio suddenly spoke up, with a slight exasperated smile on her face as she folded her hands together.

“Only the ones with inflated egos that cannot back them up,” he answered, knowing that his wife had spoken those words not only for her own assessment of the situation, but to also draw the attention of Kitamura away from Ichimura. They had to ensure that the threat remained on those who could fight.

Kitamura gave a 'tsch' of annoyance, but did not deign to answer the comment and instead asked, “Do you have the list?”

“Give me my son first,” Ichimura said, taking a step forward. Though the man was completely weaponless, as per the law, there was confidence in the Ichimura's voice as he demanded his family to be returned. In the split second that Ichimura had stepped forward, Saitou had taken a step to the right of Ichimura, positioning himself for a quick draw that would enable him to plunge straight into one of the forms of Gatotsu.

Tokio had taken a step back, positioning herself directly behind Ichimura, her hands unfolded and by her side, ready to intercept or attack from a distance without compromising Ichimura. Shinomori was still standing on the left side of Ichimura, focused and ready to attack at a moment's notice.

“List first, my dear,” Kitamura said, holding the hand that held the rope out.

“Help me, otousan,” Ichimura's son weakly cried out.

Ichimura hesitated for a moment before reaching into the folds of his clothes and pulled out the list. Taking the last few steps forward, he handed over the list, just as he took the end of the rope that was tied around his son's neck. Saitou could see the humiliation burning in Ichimura's cheeks, forced to face that his son had been leashed like an animal, but that was quickly broken. Even before Ichimura led his son away, he had immediately taken the rope around his son's neck off.

With his son half clutching his leg in fear, Ichimura then turned and slowly walked away, as Kitamura glanced at the folded piece of paper in his hand before carefully scrutinizing Ichimura. The former page had barely knelt down to pick his son up when Saitou suddenly saw something odd shimmer around Kitamura and immediately drew his sword, just as Shinomori gave a shout for Ichimura to duck.

As a smoke-like shape seemed to step away from Kitamura, Saitou drew his sword parallel to the ground as he charged in, lunging with all of his strength straight at Kitamura, catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eyes of Shinomori's Ryuusui no Ugoki at work. Saitou had quickly assessed the swordsmanship skill level of the pale-haired man right when they had met, and it had been lower than what he considered Udou Jin'e's level to be. If he missed skewering Kitamura, Shinomori's offensive attack coming out of the flowing form would hit Kitamura. That was only _if_ he, Saitou, missed.

Shock blossomed on Kitamura's face, as Saitou's charge carried him from the foot of the bridge to its apex in less than a blink of an eye, before whatever dark mist that had been swirling around the pale-haired man could manifest. Just as Saitou expected the tip of his blade to plunge straight into the heart of Kitamura, the surprise that was on Kitamura's face turned into one of insane glee, eerily similar enough to the crazed look he had witnessed on Shishio Makoto's face during that final battle, but not shocking enough to stop the first form of Gatotsu from plunging into flesh.

Except that it was not the flesh of Kitamura, but rather the creature that had seemingly grown out of Kitamura.

Saitou immediately pulled his sword out of the fast-forming flesh before it hardened into something dense, and planted himself firmly on the ground. Summoning more of his strength, he threw every single ounce of force he could into the zero form of Gatotsu, striking straight into the face of the creature, who had, in less than the time it took him to switch forms, formed into someone tall and somewhat familiar-looking. Had he not been chasing after stragglers during Ikedaya, Saitou, not Okita, would have fought against this terrifyingly tall opponent.

“Gatotsu – Zero-shiki!”

The sharpened fang of the wolf and all the power behind it plunged straight into the head of Yoshida Toshimaro.

The force of the point-blank strike was strong enough to push the creature away from Kitamura, and he followed it, keeping a tight grip on his sword. Just as he cleared Kitamura, he saw Shinomori unleash an offensive attack on the pale-haired man, but did not focus on the attack, instead, turning his full attention back to the monster that had formed.

Yanking his sword out of the creature's head, he jumped back and quickly assessed the situation in front of him. Time and again, he had heard from those who encountered and fought the summoned creatures, that the skin of the creature was almost impenetrable, that the strength was much stronger than what they knew of them, and that they could not be killed. In Saitou's opinion, anything could be killed, and the opponent in front of him had already been killed, by a Wolf of Mibu no less. It was just a matter of the dead staying permanently dead.

~~~

The final flowing form of his Ryuusui no Ugoki was a fast one as Aoshi dove straight into unleashing Kaiten Kenbu Rokuren. Because of just how fast he was moving, his kodachi hovered slightly in the air for a moment before he snatched them and struck Kitamura's left side using the backhand of his left blade first that was swiftly followed by his right blade. Left and right, all six strikes connected but were not deep enough and managed to only draw shallow wounds as Kitamura reacted faster than he had expected.

As the crazed expression on Kitamura's face died slightly with the man drawing his sword, Aoshi wasted no time and pressed, using the fact that Saitou had managed to push the summoned creature of Kitamura's out of the way, allowing free-range for his attacks.

Just as he angled and jumped in for an overhead strike, using his left hand to bring his blade up to plunge down, as his right swept up from the bottom, intending to catch Kitamura off guard, the pale-haired man managed draw his sword and block the overhead strike before whirling away. His right-handed strike missed the man by several hairs, and he heard him give a bark of laughter before the clang of swords filled the air again, as Kitamura's overhead blow was blocked by him.

Aoshi's arms shook with the force of the impact, but he did not push back and instead, quickly lowered the center of his mass, half-crouching in a quick maneuver to whirl around, bringing up his blades and arms to avoid being kicked and skewed by Kitamura's blade as he spun around and attempted to scissor his blades against Kitamura's exposed back.

The pale-haired man nimbly dodged, but not fast enough as Aoshi's blades managed to nick the man on his side, drawing a sliver of blood that bled through cloth. Had his blades been coated with poison, it would have been a fatal blow, but alas it was not so. He sprang back and crouched, blades at his side and tight in his hands, watching warily as Kitamura stepped back, keeping distance from him, the point of his blade just hovering out of the optimal reach for a strike on him.

Kitamura had skill, and even though it was a combination of swordsmanship and whatever Fuuma shinobi had taught him, Aoshi could see that it was mainly swordsmanship skills that dominated the way Kitamura fought. Shinobi blade skills were meant to kill fast and to not linger, but swordsmanship skills were designed for prolonged battle if necessary. Aoshi's own skills were the former, and even though he had not played every card in the form he practiced, he was sure that with all of the information that Kitamura most likely received from Fuuma shinobi about the Oniwabanshuu, a part of that would be just how to counter every single form that his skills afforded him.

Ryuusui no Ugoki would be his best defensive and offensive plan of attack, but something still did not _feel_ right about the entire battle. He had no qualms about killing Kitamura, but everything, even the fact that he had been able to wound Kitamura slightly, felt _wrong_. Where were the shinobi that worked with Kitamura? Why had Saitou even managed to strike the summoned creature in the head when both master swordsmen Himura Kenshin and Okita Souji said that the creatures were undefeatable?

Something was very wrong, and despite flowing back into Ryuusui no Ugoki to launch another strike, Aoshi knew to completely stop and assess the situation would prove to be quite fatal for him.

~~~

Tetsu tumbled down the slight rise of the bridge, just as he heard Aoshi shout, tucking his body around his son as he came up and out of the roll and started running from the bridge. His son gave a cry, but he shushed him, saying, “Hold on, Toshirou, just hold on!”

Behind him, he could hear another figure running after him as he risked a quick glance back to see Saitou's wife following closely behind him, naginata unsheathed. He didn't get a good glimpse at the battle going on before refocusing himself to get to safety as quick as possible. That was his goal, and when he hit the edge of the city would he allow himself to slow down, hand over his son to Saitou's wife, and take whatever he could find for weapons and rejoin Aoshi and Saitou in the battle.

He did not want to owe the Third Unit Captain anymore than he had to.

“Ichimura-san!” Tokio shouted, just as Tetsu saw something flash by out of the corner of his eyes and skidded to a stop. With only the length of a small rice paddy field to go before they entered into the more dense area of Kyoto, standing between the three of them and freedom were many black-clad shinobi, all of them ready to fight to the death.

“Move!” he heard Tokio shout and ducked to the side, just as he saw her charge in with a wide lateral sweep of her naginata. Nimble and fast, the shinobi jumped out of the way, but in their wake, a terrifying wall of grey rolled in, blanketing the entire area in a foggy mist.

He immediately lost sight of Saitou's wife, as he clutched his son tighter to him, looking around as a chill settled in, seemingly seeping into his bones, almost freezing him to the spot. Fortunately, he could still shout, as he yelled, “Hey!”

That shout was cut short as he felt something icy brush across his back and whipped around only to continue to find the fog enveloping both his son and him. He heard his son whimper slightly, but try as he might, even the few steps that had separated him and Tokio seemed endless now. Ghostly hands continued to touch him, sending waves of cold through his body as he kept turning around, trying to find out who or what was exactly doing this.

“If you want to end this, you know where to find me, Tetsu dear,” the whispered, almost ethereal voice of Suzu said across his ears. “Where it all began...”

“Suzu!” he shouted, as a warm wind whipped through and suddenly blew away the icy-cold fog. He felt like he had been slapped as he heard his son cry out and bury his face into the folds of his clothes. “You coward!”

He turned around to see that in the distance, where he had thought he had seen Aoshi fighting against Suzu, to see that there was a jet-black lacquered skull lying at the feet of Aoshi. However, the creature that possessed the nightmarish face of Yoshida Toshimaro was still there, and Aoshi immediately joined in the fight.

“Ichimura-san!” he heard Tokio's voice and looked over to see that the woman was running towards him, having strangely somehow ended up on the far side of the rice paddy field. “There's still a wall of fog surrounding the city,” she said, as he turned to face the direction where he had been running to and saw that despite the fog having been swept away in the paddy fields, it was wrapped around the city as if blinding it from outsiders. Even as light and as thin looking the fog was, Tetsu could not see into it.

“We're going to need to climb onto the rooftops,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as possible as he put his son down on the ground and crouched. When his son climbed onto his back and wrapped his pudgy arms around his neck, he stood back up. Despite his own fears and anger, he knew that he needed to keep his voice as brave as possible to not further frighten his son.

“Let's go, then,” Tokio said.

“What of your husband?” he asked, startled by the determination in the tone of her voice.

“Hajime and Shinomori-san will join us shortly,” she simply answered. Incredulous, he turned back to see that strangely enough, for all the invincibility that had been said about the summoned creature, it seemed to be 'bleeding' a dark grey kind of smoke. He didn't know how it was happening, but something told him that whatever was happening, the fact that whom he thought was Suzu was actually a creature, and the creature that had the face of Yoshida was being hurt.

To think that whatever he had given the list to was not Suzu but an apparition of a sort that seemed so real sent shivers down his spine. Whatever was happening, the creatures taking on forms they feared most, ghostly hands trying to grab at them in a fog so thick that it was hard to breathe or move, it was unnerving. He had survived harrowing years of war, years of suffering, and years of just trying to live, but now, he had never felt so helpless, so hopeless, so unsure that even the best they had in Kyoto could defeat such an enemy. But that was defeatist thinking, and despite what Saitou had said to him at Shiroyama all those years ago, he, Tetsu had _not_ given up the will to live.

He had his son back, though in the corners of his mind, he couldn't help but think that this was all a part of the plan for revenge, and that in the center of it all, Suzu's targets were not only him, but every innocent that he could attempt to bring down into hell with him. He knew that he had to find Suzu himself, to stop him from continuing to unleash supernatural forces amongst the citizens, and he knew where exactly his former friend was waiting for him.

Ikedaya.

He was sure of it, and once he was sure his son was in safe hands, he would go there, and end this once and for all. It was his mistake, and this time, there was no one to blame for it but himself. He was going to stop running, stop being a coward, and stop the man he had once called 'friend' from hurting anyone else.

~~~

Just as he caught a glimpse of Shinomori launching a flurry of strikes with his kodachi against the creature, distracting it, Saitou took advantage of the distraction that had ensued and rammed his blade into the tougher-than-normal body of the creature. Though the creature roared in pain, it was already oozing grey smoke out of the many wounds that both he and Shinomori had managed to inflict on it.

It still took more force than what he had been used to in utilizing the various forms of Gatotsu to inflict the wounds, and he could feel himself tiring just in the short span of the battle, but the fact that the creature was being _wounded_ kept him going. The Battousai and Okita had not managed to even damage such a creature, and he wasn't about to stop and wonder why now, of all times, the creature was faltering. Taking the advantage for all its worth was his top priority.

It also seemed that the fog that had blew through for a moment, obscuring his vision slightly as he had felt ghostly, ethereal hands press against him, had made the creature that possessed a dead man's visage, weaker than it had been. As the fang of his blade sunk into the creature's flesh, he gripped his sword with two hands and yanked it diagonally up and out of the creature's body, tearing a ghastly wound up and across the creature's chest.

The howl of pain was inhuman and loud enough that he winced as his ears rang even after the cry died and was replaced by an angry growl. What should've been a mortal wound for any human was not one for the creature, but Saitou didn't expect it to be. With swiftness honed by years of battle and training, before the creature could retaliate with its arm that had not had its nerves severed from the shoulder, he immediately angled the blade to the side, and swept it up and to the right side, half-decapitating the creature from the edge of the right shoulder up towards the left ear.

Just as he spun away with the momentum of the strike, he caught a glimpse of the twin kodachi of Shinomori flash by, further decapitating the creature in parallel cuts that lopped the rest of the creature's face off. Flicking the ghostly swirls of grey mists that seemed to cling onto his blade, off, he stepped to the side as the creature thumped to the ground, headless.

Angling his blade towards the ground, ready to strike again, should the creature rise again, he carefully watched the seemingly dead thing for a few moments until suddenly, it started to dissolve. However, there was an acrid smell to the dead creature and he immediately backed away, as he saw Shinomori raise an arm to cover both his mouth and nose. He did the same too, but the decaying mist of the body spread, and soon, he was forced far and away from the body, turning so that he was not downwind of the evening breeze that was carrying the poisonous and noxious fumes away.

He half-watched in wonder, and more in annoyance as rice paddies and plants that were in the path of the fumes quickly withered and decayed upon contact. It was very fortunate that the evening breeze was blowing towards the wide open fields and that farm houses around here were quite spread out. However, once morning came, he was sure that the damage done by whatever poison that had been infused with the creature would take its toll on the residents of this farmland. The ground where the poisonious mist touched would probably never been able to be sown again.

“He's scorched the earth here,” Shinomori said as Saitou glanced over to see that the master shinobi no longer had an arm around his mouth and nose, and dropped his own. Glancing at his trusty sword, he saw that despite the poison that had seeped out of the creature's body upon death, it had not affected his sword and thus sheathed it.

He was acutely aware of just how tired he was, having taken all of his strength, abilities, and willpower to fight the creature...and that was with Shinomori's help. “What happened to Kitamura?”

“He disappeared as soon as the fog rolled through,” Shinomori answered. “A black skull was left in his place.”

Saitou frowned as his mind cursed the escape of the pale-haired man. He knew that the master shinobi would have pursued their target with an utmost urgency, but the fact that the strange fog of all things had even caused Shinomori to fail at his task concerned him. However, his concern now was to get back to the city, since they had Ichimura's son in their hands. The sun was already below the horizon and daylight was fast fading. He did not want them to be out here in the fields when darkness fully settled.

Sheathing his sword, both he and Shinomori ran as fast as they could across the field, and in the distance, he wasn't sure if it was only his imagination or for real, he saw a mist covering the buildings of the houses that lined the street that would carry them back into the heart of Kyoto. In fact, the mist seemed to have spread from horizon to horizon, blanketing the city.

He spotted figures in the distance, both turning as the two of them approached. However, before he could acknowledge or ask why the hell Ichimura and his son, along with Tokio, had not even attempted to enter the city yet, Shinomori had disappeared out of the corner of his vision. A moment later, the ex- _Okashira_ had appeared at the back of Ichimura, with one of his blades held right at Ichimura's son's neck.

“Don't move,” Shinomori said, as Ichimura gave a shout.

Tokio had drawn and pointed her naginata at the three, while Saitou's right thumb had pushed his blade out of his sheathe at his side slightly, ready to be drawn.

“Otousan,” the boy whined, in near tears, frightened at how close the blade was to his neck.

“What the hell are you doing Aoshi?!” Ichimura shouted, but did not move, knowing just how quick Shinomori was with a blade.

“Kitamura was an apparition, replaced by a black-lacquered skull. The creature we fought against was easily killed but left a poisonous gas as a parting gift,” Shinomori stated. “This boy is not what he seems.”

“That's _my son_ you're pointing your blade at,” he heard Ichimura growl.

They all stood like statues for a few moments, before Saitou saw the master shinobi blink slightly, with the blade held at the child's neck shaking slightly. As Shinomori raised a free hand to his face, rubbing his eyes slightly, the blade was withdrawn and sheathed.

“I apologize for my action, Tetsunosuke,” Shinomori muttered.

Anger receded from Ichimura's expression as he gave a nod of acknowledgment to the apology. “It's all right,” the former page said.

Returning his attention to the light mists blanketing the heart of Kyoto, Saitou heard Shinomori say, “If this is what I think it is, then we'll need to travel on the rooftops. I'll lead.”

“Go,” he said, nodding towards Shinomori, Ichimura, and his wife. “I'll take the rear.” Though he prided himself on having some balance, he had rarely attempted to run on a rooftop before. Shinomori would be the best person to lead and push a path through, but he had no doubt that Ichimura had never run on rooftops, and neither had his wife. He would be the rear guard, not only to ensure that if anything tried to ambush them from behind, he would be able to quickly assist any policemen on the ground, if necessary without compromising the others.

With a path that ensured that the less able-balanced of their group would make it up to the rooftops with little effort, the four of them traveled quickly enough to keep from lingering on a place too long, but slow enough so that everyone kept their balance. It was quiet, eerie, and there seemed to be a chill in the air, despite the night time heat still emanating from the tiles on the roofs.

Police patrols, even when preparing for a battle, were usually not that noisy, but Saitou could not hear anything on the ground. He could feel muddled presences, but strangely enough, could not discern it from friend or foe. His temptation to jump down into a street, just to try to see what was going on, for there were supposed to be several groups in the area, readying themselves, was great, but the wolf inside of him cautioned against such a risky move.

Jump after jump, they slowly made their way through Kyoto's rooftops, until Shinomori suddenly stopped, crouching. Ichimura and Tokio had also stopped, with Ichimura's son quite silent, but wide-eyed with fear. Saitou kept his profile tall, but as he saw Shinomori focused on one particular area on the rooftops ahead that was covered in grey fog, he too focused his attention on that area.

A gust of warm night wind blew the fog away, and he saw Weasel Girl stumble slightly as whatever she had been fighting disappeared. She had also sensed their presence and immediately turned, but instead of the usual expressions he expected on the girl's face, horror was etched upon it.

“What is that?!” she screamed, frantically pointing at them.

It took less than a moment for Saitou to realize that Weasel Girl's flailing of her arms was actually towards a specific person, and as he glanced towards Ichimura, his body reacted before his mind had completely processed what he was seeing, drawing his sword. He charged, with the first form of Gatotsu bearing down on Ichimura's son, or what had _looked_ like to be Ichimura's son. Gone was the terrified, sniffling child; only to be replaced by a pale, mass-less form that displayed razor-sharp black teeth and hollow eye sockets.

Saitou instinctively knew that it was a summoned-creature, feeding on someone's fear. It was wrapped tightly around Ichimura, choking the former page. However, being the closest one that could kill the creature, he also knew that at this range, his Gatotsu could not be refined to be a surgical strike. It would skewer both Ichimura and the creature.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being on much-needed vacation kind of made me lose a few of the characters' voices. But...I think I got most of them back to finish out the story in the next few chapters. It's going to be a chaotic, wild ride until the end, so buckle up, because round one is just the warm-up!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_Year: Summer, 1879_

 

Time seemed to slow down for Misao as she watched, half-terrified, half in horror as the blade of Saitou Hajime's _Gatotsu_ mercilessly bore down on Ichimura and the creature that was wrapped around his neck. Saitou's attack was too fast, running only on pure instinct, and even with Aoshi and Tokio halfway in unsheathing their blades, the two would not make it to Ichimura to intercept the attack. Even Misao's own attack would be too little, too late.

She bit back a scream as she looked away, not wanting to see a man whom she barely knew, but had seen his deep devotion to his family that he would do anything to get them back, skewered. However, a familiar warm presence blew into the area, as she felt a gust of wind, unlike anything she had felt before. She opened her eyes and gasped.

Himura Kenshin was standing protectively around Ichimura, his sword angled down; while Saitou had skidded to the end of the rooftop, with the creature wriggling in its last death throes, pierced by his sword.

The force of the intercepting impact, between Ichimura, Himura and Saitou, had been hard enough to knock Ichimura out, and Himura had caught the man, keeping him from falling into the murky soup of a fog in the streets below. Misao wanted to cheer, but she refrained from doing so, as she saw the tense standoff between Himura, who had narrowed his eyes at Saitou, and Saitou, who waited for the creature to dissolve away before flicking his sword and turned back towards the scene.

She saw Aoshi carefully watching both swordsmen, his kodachi out and ready, while Tokio stood a ways away, also watching the scene unfold before her. Despite wanting to join in, there was something about the entire scene before her that told her that she should not move from her perch.

“You're not supposed to be here, Battousai,” Saitou said.

“Where is his son?” Himura said, his tone angry, but not to the point where long ago, Misao remembered it being freezing.

“We had him--” Saitou began.

“We never had him,” Aoshi interrupted. “It was all a well planned and executed ruse to lure some of us out of Kyoto and blanket this place in a fog.”

“Yes, it was,” Himura answered after a moment as Misao thought she saw Saitou's eyes narrow slightly. “The fog is slowing all policemen down, enough for teams of three or four shinobi to attack small groups at a time. However, they're only attacking those outside of the buildings, that they are. Matsumoto, Yamazaki-sensei, and the Oniwabanshuu are trying to find the summoners. Misao-chan, Yukimura-kun, Okita, and I have taken to the rooftops around here. Kaoru is back at the Aoiya, tending to the wounded. This Akesato woman that we've spoken of has not showed herself yet.”

“Ichimura-san will be in safe hands, Himura-san,” Tokio spoke up, hooking her naginata to her back again as she approached. “Misao-chan and I will take him back into the Aoiya.”

As the hardened look on Himura's face softened slightly, Misao could feel the relief spread throughout as she too approached from where she was. There was still the matter of the fact that Ichimura's son was still missing, but in the mean time, no one had been hurt in this incident. As soon as they got Ichimura back into the Aoiya through the secret entrance, then she would resume helping out.

At first, she had been put off that Ji-ya had told her to stay while the rest of the Oniwabanshuu spread throughout the city, but Himura had come to the rescue and had her utilize her skills in picking off any enemy shinobi who had tried to invade through the rooftops.

The fog had not stopped her movements, but it had slowed her down enough that she knew that she would be a liability if she stayed on the ground for too long. Still, that had not stopped her from jumping in and out of the fog, relaying information to Himura and Okita so that the two swordsmen could draw the attention of the enemy shinobi to the rooftops. With help from citizens, she and the others had dragged policemen who had been ambushed and severely injured by sneak attacks into buildings for safe keeping.

Kaoru and Yuki had tried to help as best as they could, but it seemed that the fog was affecting swordsmen and those who had a high amount of ken-ki, the policemen being another affected group.

Aoshi was the first to reach the knocked-out Ichimura, having sheathed his kodachi, and hefted the man up from Himura's grip. Lightly jumping to the next rooftop, Misao followed Aoshi, as she heard Tokio follow them, leaving Saitou and Himura to continue their discussion. She was sure that Saitou was not going to linger and defend the area, most likely going after his men or would seek out information on the location of Kitamura.

At the secret entrance to the Aoiya, Misao held the entrance open as Aoshi jumped in, careful not to knock Ichimura's head on the entrance way. Tokio followed, and despite the lack of people scuttling around in the vicinity, Misao took a look around before following and closing the entrance behind her. Aoshi entered the room where Ichimura's wife was lying, still recovering and placed the unconscious man down.

“Do you know where the rest of our people have covered grounds, _Okashira_?” Aoshi quietly asked.

It took Misao a moment to realize that the question was addressed to her, for this was the first time that Aoshi had openly acknowledged that she was indeed, the _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu. Flushing slightly with embarrassment, she said, “East and west sides, but not all of it yet. It's also where enemy shinobi have been sighted.”

Aoshi gave her a slight nod, saying, “Tell the old man that I'm going north.”

As much as she wanted to embrace her love right then and there, and to tell him to be careful, she knew that it was an inappropriate time to be thinking of doing such a thing and instead settled for echoing what Dr. Yamazaki had said earlier to them. “Good hunting, then.”

Aoshi left without another word, and even though her heart ached to catch one last glimpse of the man she loved, Misao refrained from taking that one last look and waited a few seconds before turning. Surprisingly, there was an understanding look on Tokio's face but she said nothing except to give a sagely nod towards her. Clearing her throat, she refocused herself on the here and now, and said, “Kaoru and Yuki have been helping those injured, but we've been tied up with the defense of peoples' homes more. Can you help?”

“I would be honored to,” Tokio answered, bowing slightly. “Where are they now?”

“Yuki's somewhere on the rooftops, and Kaoru is downstairs,” she answered. “I'll find Yuki, since he has more knowledge than I do to make sure that Ichimura is all right. Can you and Kaoru keep an eye on the rooftops in this place for now?”

“We will,” Tokio answered.

Parting ways, Misao left the room and scampered down the halls. Climbing back up the way she had entered a few minutes before, she entered the rooftops, with the evening breeze blowing quite gently, giving the illusion of a peaceful night. It was fully evening now, with the sun having completely set and the sky darkened a half-hour ago. The moon was rising, but even that would not afford much light, since even though it was a full moon, there were many clouds.

With her eyes quickly adjusting, she saw that both Saitou and Himura had already left. Looking around, she did not see Yuki where she had left him and hurried to the area. The taps of her footsteps on the rooftops and the echoes of far away whistles of policemen alerting others to an attack were the only sounds she heard as she looked around, seeing no sign of her cousin. There was, however, the far away sound of someone fighting, and judging from the sharp, cold presence she felt, it had to been Okita. Misao had felt Kenshin's presence when fighting only four times before; once was against then-Juppongatana, Chou, and the second was during the fight against Yukishirou Enishi. The more recent times had been during the search for Ginte and the aftermath of that search. In all four of those times, there was the same kind of sharpness as she felt now, except it was warm. The presence she felt now had to have been Okita – for there was a coldness about that swordsman whenever he fought that seemed to compliment Saitou's own animalistic presence.

Hurrying to where the cold presence was, she peered over the edge of the nearest rooftop to see the last of a group of shinobi being cut down. The clouds parted briefly to allow the moonlight to stream through for a moment before hiding again, but that brief moment was enough to shock Misao. Even though she had seen what devastation could be wrought with a live blade before, nothing, not even what Aoshi had done to Ji-ya last year, prepared her for what she had glimpsed.

Blood was splattered all over the walls, ground, even barrels that littered this part of the street that had the fog cleared for a few moments. Several dark-clad bodies of dead shinobi were ringed around Okita, who had flicked his blade clear of the blood that had coated the blade so thick that the brief illumination of moonlight had not even glinted off the blade.

“What is the situation, _Okashira_?” she heard Okita coldly ask, sheathing his blade before the swordsman jumped back up into the rooftops as the fog closed back in.

“I...I thought you told Himura that you wouldn't kill,” she said, staring back and forth between the area where the fog had closed and the swordsman.

“It is not your concern, Misao-chan,” Okita answered, a bit warmer than he had initially greeted her. “What is the situation?”

“Ichimura and the others returned, but without Ichimura's son,” she answered after a moment. Seeing the frown appear on Okita's expression, and not wanting to linger in the frightening presence of him, she hurriedly continued, saying, “There was a creature disguised as Ichimura's son and when they got back, it transformed. Himura and Saitou defeated the creature. Ichimura is currently resting at the Aoiya.”

“Thank you,” Okita replied.

“Um...” she hesitatingly said, “I'm looking for Yuki. He wasn't where I left him near the rooftop of the bookstore near the Aoiya. Have you seen him?”

The cold look on Okita's face all but disappeared as concern replaced it and he shook his head. “Yukimura-kun was the one who told me about the shinobi down here.” Misao watched as the swordsman briefly closed his eyes, before opening them again and said, “His presence is not where I expect it to be.”

Without another word, Okita suddenly took off, surprising Misao with the speed and agility displayed at running through the rooftops. It took all of her concentration and then some to keep up with the swordsman, and even though she knew that she needed to stay in the area to help relay information, she was very concerned for her cousin. Mentally, he had gone though a lot in the past few days, especially with being thrown into such a fight, and though Misao was still slightly reeling from all that had happened, she had last year's events against Shishio Makoto and the incident with Yukishirou Enishi to have mentally prepared. Her cousin, Yuki, was just a civilian like most of the other residents, accidentally caught up in the whirlwind.

After minutes of running, Okita suddenly stopped, and Misao skidded to a halt behind him, only for Okita to immediately leap ahead, drawing his sword mid-flight and skewer a shinobi that had been half-hidden by the shadows on the rooftop ahead. With that shinobi down, Misao saw her cousin in the middle of enemy shinobi that had surrounded him. However, before she could even pull out her throwing knives and ready her best attack, Okita had already pulled his sword out of the dead shinobi and had spun his blade to deflect several throwing knives, before he then slashed down from left to right, slicing another shinobi. Blood sprayed in the air as momentum carried him forward and into another shinobi, who received a pinpoint thrust straight into the chest.

She watched in amazement at just how fast Okita was cutting down shinobi, ever moving, and never slowing, allowing each strike the carry into the next. Even with little light and only moonlight trying to shine through the clouds, the master swordsman seemed to know where each and every enemy was. However, as the next shinobi fell, she gave a start as she saw a dark figure flash in and pinned Yuki in a hold.

Shock rooted her to her position as she caught a glimpse of pale, yellow hair flowing in the wind, as moonlight briefly illuminated the area before disappearing again.

However, she shook her head to get over the shock and she raised her hands, full of throwing knives, ready to strike at the foreign kunoichi that had taken her cousin hostage, she suddenly found herself being bound by strong hands clamping down on either side of her. Wildly looking around, she saw two black-clad shinobi, except that even in the darkness, she could see that they were not the typical dark-haired shinobi and had light-hair. She could see wisps of it peeking out of their head coverings and their build, even under the clothes, was much stockier and taller than most typical shinobi.

“Let me go!” she cried, squirming as she was forced to kneel and her arms raised and painfully twisted. She refused to cry in pain though, knowing that it was entirely her fault that she had not paid attention to her surroundings.

“Okita-sensei,” a woman's voice, almost sultry were it not for the dangerous tone she heard in addressing the master swordsman.

Misao saw Okita halt, his sword only two finger-widths away from slicing the arm off of a shinobi as he turned to face the new threat. She could see his grip on the sword tighten as he took a step away and back from the shinobi whose life had been spared. The spared shinobi had backed quickly away and she saw Okita take a glance back, seeing that she, Misao, was being held by the enemy.

“Let them go,” she heard Okita growl, in an almost wolf-like manner.

“Not until you tell me where Kitamura is and where he has taken the promised list,” the woman said.

* * *

_Akesato_ , he thought to himself as the evening wind gusted again, blowing long strands of pale, straw-colored hair from the kunoichi's face, giving him a clear view of just how she held his apprentice close to her. She had not pressure-pointed Yuki just yet, but he knew that it was the same exact hold that had been inflicted upon Misao all those years ago. The young woman, who was also being held down, seemed to have no memories of that incident, and for that, Okita was glad. Now, however, was a nightmare situation that had come to life. With their forces spread so thin, and the fog impeding every move, he knew that there was no one else that would be able to help him or the two people being held against their will.

He regretted not ordering Misao to stay where she had been, but it had been the heat of the moment, fresh from one crisis into another and his concern for his apprentice, that he had forgotten to say those words.

“Let them go and I will tell you where he is,” he said, keeping his tone and breathing as even as possible. The skirmishes he had been in, killing batches of shinobi where Misao and the others had pointed out, had been short, but it was starting to add up and take a toll on him. To defeat Akesato and the two foreign shinobi behind him, he knew that he needed all of his strength. If only he could isolate them...

“Ah how far you have fallen, Okita-sensei,” the woman said. “To think that Yamanami had expressed his concerns about you so long ago...that you had no humanity, and were the most ruthless of all Shinsengumi. You've change.”

“I killed him, Akesato,” he stated. And though it pained him to say it, he continued, saying, “I killed the man you loved with my hands. I did it all on my own because he deserted us. You do not need to seek out others of the Shinsengumi in revenge. You do not need the list. If you want your revenge here and now, I am willing to fight. Release Misao-chan and my apprentice and I will fight you.”

“The Okita-sensei that I've seen and observed, who allowed his men to take over Masuya without mercy and bravely charged into Ikedaya like a possessed demon that same night, would not have put his concern for hostages above all else,” Akesato lightly said. “He also died during the revolution. So, even though you look like him, whoever you may be, you're not the infamous Shinsengumi First Unit Captain Okita Souji. You, are, however, someone that will tell me where Kitamura is.”

“You are right,” he simply said, angling his body as he readied himself to attack, drawing all of his strength into this single strike, for he would only get one chance.

Moonlight crept out from under the clouds again, and he was rewarded with fear lighting up in the kunoichi's eyes. She had clearly felt his ken-ki grow, but he was not going to give her another moment, and a split second later, he charged, letting his howl fill the air, shattering the silence. Though it took him less than a half-second to get from his position to where Akesato was, in that time, something dark flash across his eyes and snatch Yuki away, allowing the tip of his blade clear access for  _Hirasegan_ to strike.

As expected for someone of her calibre, as soon as her hostage had been snatched away, she had transferred the throwing knife that she had held against Yuki's neck straight towards where the tip of his blade was about to strike. He saw it, and though it was too late to stop his strike, the throwing knife was thick enough at the hilt to stop the blade, but not the force behind it.

The kunoichi flew into the air, and though it was his duty to pursue such an opponent, he skidded to a halt on the rooftops, grabbing the apex portion with a free hand to keep himself from sliding off and into the murky fog below. He glanced back to see that she had been flung far away from her initial position, and had landed on a rooftop, stunned.

“She's mine!” he heard Yamazaki say as a the familiar form of the shinobi with spiky hair leapt over him and bounded across the rooftops, headed towards where the foreign kunoichi had landed.

Glancing over towards where the two other foreign shinobi had held Misao hostage, he saw that her two captors were quite dead, with one having multiple throwing knives embedded in various pressure points, while the other had had his throat slit. The third shinobi that he had 'spared' was also dead with a throwing knife sticking out of an eye socket. The doctor, despite having sworn an oath to save all lives, had forgone that oath tonight, to save Misao, and though Misao was collapsed and on her knees between the two foreign shinobi bodies, she looked relieved.

He turned his attention to his left, and a faint smile appeared on his face as he saw Aya cradling Yuki, while Yuki had a slightly dazed look. His tactic in stalling the foreign kunoichi as long as he could had worked, for he knew that both Aya and the doctor were clearly attuned to sensing swordsmen ken-ki. It was how the shinobi who had served in the Shinsengumi operated – intercepting and helping whenever a unit seemed to falter in battle. He had only counted on one of them to show up, not both, but he was relieved that both his apprentice and Misao were relatively unhurt.

The timing of his strike had to have been precise, for there had been a chance that Akesato may have tried to use Yuki has a shield. It was also the reason why he had chosen to use  _Hirasegan_ and not any other form, for with the height his apprentice was, versus the height of the foreign kunoichi, that single strike, if it had pierced his apprentice, would have been survivable for his apprentice, but fatal for the foreign kunoichi. It would have taken too much time and effort for Akesato to lift Yuki up for him, Okita, to hit something vital, and thus, he was quite certain of his target.

He lifted himself up to a sitting position on the rooftop, allowing only a trickle of exhaustion to seep into him as he saw Aya look up at him, giving him a nod of thanks along with a small smile. Though they had spoken cordially to each other since she had awoken, there was still much to be mended between them--

The fine-tuned control he had over his battered, failing body, was lost as he doubled over and coughed. One cough after another, his body refused to stop heaving as he felt his lungs burn with a fire that could not be contained. He could barely hear someone shouting his name as he continued to cough, with each breath he expelled feeling as if something or someone was pounding on his chest with a stone hammer. Something was rattling in his lungs, and he could feel something warm and sticky spill to the ground from his mouth. However, he couldn't see what it was, for a haze had over taken his vision, blurring what should have been a moonlit night into total darkness. Fire clawed at him, as he struggled to breathe, to get at least a sip of cool air within him, but his body refused to obey his mind.

Too much fighting in too short of a time, and this was the price he paid for it. He refused to give into the darkness and fought to control himself, to keep himself from slipping fully into the darkness that his body wanted to embrace. There were still enemies around, and there were still people he needed to protect. He could not die yet, not until the woman he still loved and, his apprentice – his son whom he could never acknowledge as such, and lastly, not until Tetsu and his family, were all safe.

Okita snapped his eyes open as he took a breath, his body finally allowing the night air to fill his lungs again. He became aware that his head had been propped up and looked up to see three pairs of concerned eyes upon him. One of them belonged to Aya, whose lap he was resting on, with the other two being Misao and Yuki who had peered over from where they were sitting.

“Blood,” Aya said.

“Ah,” he answered hoarsely, silently acknowledging that he had finally coughed out blood again.

“We should get him back to the Aoiya,” he heard Yuki say.

“I'll go find a stretcher,” Misao said.

“Wait,” he said, clearing his throat as much as possible as he summoned what strength he had left and pulled himself up. Dizziness overtook him for a moment as the world spun slightly, but a few moments later, he grasped his sword, feeling the familiar weight in his hands and slowly stood back up.

Aya had not assisted him, and he knew that she wouldn't. She knew him well enough to understand his pride as a swordsman and that he needed to show them that though he had collapsed, he was not down or dead yet. As long as he could still breathe and move, he would continue to do his duty. A Wolf of Mibu never died without a fight.

“Sensei...” Yuki started, concerned, but was silenced as a chilling, oppressive presence swept through the place.

Okita immediately pinpointed the piercing presence as coming from above, and pushed the others away before raising his sword up as fast as he could. He barely raised it up overhead in time, with one hand on the hilt of the sword and the other bracing the blade as the heavy weight of a sword and the creature behind it crashed down up him. He felt himself sink into the rooftop, as his arms buckled slightly under the weight and found himself staring up at a massless shadow with glowing, blood-red eyes that held a sword. He blinked, and the massless creature had taken on a form, sending chills throughout his body.

Dark flowing black hair, held in a high ponytail by a single tie, framed a chiseled handsome face that could have been carved from stone, had he not been familiar with the range of emotions that had flitted through that face for such a long time. He was used to being towered over by the person whom the creature had taken form, but to see Hijikata Toshizou's face twisted into an angry snarl was enough to startle him and allow the creature some more ground.

Pushing back with whatever strength he had left, he refused to give into the one man that haunted his dreams and deepest fear, and pushed back. With his lower center of mass than the creature that possessed Hijikata's face, he twisted, and made the creature over balance itself enough to allow him to roll out of the way. Springing back, he held his sword at a guard position as he assessed the situation, with just that small of a movement causing him to breathe hard. Moonlight was starting to fade, giving the dark-clad creature shadows to hide in, but the Shinsengumi were not considered demons for nothing. To become a demon, one had to live with demons and that was where Okita lived in battle.

“Yuki, catch,” he heard Aya say and glanced over to see that she had thrown her wakizashi to her son. The wakizashi looked familiar, and he knew why. Her son caught it, and glanced at it with a puzzled look. “Misao, we're hunting. Let's go,” the spymaster said.

The young  _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu blanched for a second before following her aunt, as the two bounded away. He knew that they were going to search for the shinobi that summoned the creature. All he had to do was to keep the creature occupied long enough. The fact that the creature before him had not seemingly targeted civilians and had gone straight for those fighting on the rooftops, was puzzling, but now was not time to think about such things.

“Stay to either side of me, never behind me,” he said, noting that he was still wheezing with each breath, as his apprentice stepped up next to him, wakizashi drawn and ready.

“Hai, sensei,” Yuki answered.

“You hold the blade-mate to mine, Yukimura-kun,” he said, as he edged forward slightly, watching the creature carefully as the moonlight completely disappeared back into the clouds. “That blade has seen as many battles, if not more than mine. Let its instincts guide you.”

In this near darkness, with the fog on the ground oppressing even the lantern lights, this entire battle would be pure instinct. A cough inadvertently escaped his body, but he fought back control and refocused himself. Yuki's presence was strong, and that would have to be enough for him to tell where his apprentice was, whenever he struck at the creature.

With a roar, he charged, letting every ounce of his battle-honed instinct take over, boosting his ailing strength, giving him the necessary power to attack. Hijikata was dead, and even though this nightmarish visage of his close friend was meant to unnerve him, there was only the demon inside of him now. The creature met his charge head on, and when their blades struck, there was enough force behind both blows that it sunk both combatants down into the roof, nearly breaking the structure.

Taking a step back, he raised his sword again, sweeping up from low, just as the creature struck from high, and with his shorter height, he managed to drive the creature back two steps. A vicious smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as the demonic wolf inside of him rumbled with satisfaction – he could feel the prey-creature in front of him starting to weaken.

* * *

Saitou leapt from the rooftops and into the thick fog below, with luck having him land right on top of an enemy shinobi. Knocking out the shinobi, he drew his sword as fast as he could, creating a small puff of air that cleared the fog enough so that he was able to unleash Gatotsu upon several hapless enemy shinobi that had been attempting to ambush officers trapped in the area.

Just as he was about to leap up on the rooftop to escape the incoming fog, it was suddenly blown away in a gust of cold wind. Looking up the alleyway where the wind had originated from, he saw a humanoid shape framed with a rice-picker's hat standing at the far end of it and moments later, felt a familiar oppressive presence envelope the area.

“And so it begins,” he murmured, turning fully so that he was facing the creature, whose shape looked familiar as moonlight shone again, briefly illuminating the alleyway, showing him just who he was fighting against.

Some moron in Kyoto had survived an encounter against the now-dead Udou Jin'e. He, Saitou, had never feared the Shogunate assassin, having found him quite a nuisance to deal with, but someone in this area feared him enough that the summoning shinobi had latched upon that projection. He knew that he needed to take the fight to the rooftop so that the Oniwabanshuu would see the fight and intercept the summoning enemy shinobi, but there was a chance that the creature would not follow him.

Smirking, he slid into the familiar half-crouched stance of _Gatotsu_ and aimed his blade squarely at the creature. It was time to show just how much of a threat he, Saitou Hajime, was to those who threatened the peace and safety of the people of Japan.

* * *

Kenshin stood at one end of the rooftop, stance angled and ready to draw his sword in a typical battoujutsu stance. His opponent stood on the opposite end of the rooftop, with the same exact stance as he was in. The only difference was how their hair were tied up. However, Kenshin knew that the creature that possessed the visage of his greatest fear was only mirroring the stance to unnerve him. That trick would not work anymore, but as he mentally readied himself, he put all thoughts of what had happened upon the rooftops near the Aoiya to rest.

Ichimura's son was still at large, as was Kitamura, he was sure of that, but they had to protect the people first before they could look for a missing boy and the man who had taken him. He could not worry about others, not when there was one of these hideous creature on the loose. His only hope now was that one of the Oniwabanshuu would see this, and stop the shinobi that was summoning it. Policemen were dying everywhere in the fog below, and despite trying to help, more and more were being killed each minute. He could not linger, not while the defenses were slowly being chipped away, but he knew that he had to, just to keep the creature occupied.

He heard the creature before him growl, an unnatural sound coming from something that looked like him, as if taunting him. Ignoring the attempt, he crouched, and a split second later, pushed off as fast as he could, racing across the rooftop.

“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Souryuusen!”

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I ended it on teaser battles that will lead into the next chapter. Aoshi, Susumu, and the others will also have their parts to play in the next few chapters, as will Tetsu.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta-reader has not looked over this chapter yet, due to other pressing commitments, so apologies in advance for this chapter being a bit rough around the edges and some possible (but not likely) OOC moments.

**Chapter 19**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

A muffled, gurgling sound was heard as Aoshi's blade drew across the shinobi's neck. The dead body thumped to the ground, and as he quickly looked around to see the policemen around him launch a volley from their rifles, impacting a small portion of the advancing group of shinobi. Other had drawn their sabres out, and were engaging other enemy shinobi. The policemen had the upper hand, but it was the brutishly cold presence that blew through the area that caused him to break off his assistance and head towards the presence.

Sheathing his kodachi, he hurried on foot, as an oppressive feeling entered his awareness, weighing him down, but that cold presence that accompanied it did not mingle with the foreign feeling told him that it was Saitou who had engaged in a fight against a creature. He could hear the clear clang of swords, and upon peeking into an alleyway, he saw that the fog in the area had been blown quite clear, and that the creature that Saitou was fighting against was the ghostly macabre visage of Udou Jin'e.

He doubted that Saitou's greatest fear was of that madman Shogunate assassin, but it was still a creature, and that meant that the summoner was most likely somewhere nearby. He saw Saitou unleash a _Gatotsu_ -like strike that threw the creature to the rooftops, before leaping up himself. Aoshi saw them disappear over the lip of the roof and quickly ran down the fog-covered street. To stay and help Saitou with the fight was not his priority – he had a hunt to engage in; to kill the summoner.

~~~

Saitou's legs smarted against his landing on the uneven slope of the rooftop. He had been careless in the opening stages of the fight and the creature had come close to inflicting leg wounds that were similar to what had happened last year. Fortunately, the bleeding on his left leg had stopped, but he knew that he could not compensate for the speed with his right, not if he wanted to keep his balance. His speed was slower that it had been in the beginning of the night and it was all due to the enormous amount of strength he had used against the creature at the bridge.

Warily watching the creature whose coal-black eyes glittered against the moonlight, with its mouth stretched in a ghastly smile, he drew his sword back and prepared for another _Gatotsu_. With a roar, he leapt, sword tip leading the way, and just as the creature raised its own sword. Dodging at the last second to the side, he arced his blade and missed slicing into the neck of the creature by a hair. The creature had dodged, and he spun around, smashing the edge of his sword against the creature's own.

Holding it briefly at that point, he pushed, bringing his sword down towards the left as his right elbow came slightly up and smashed against left arm of the creature with enough force to jar the creature's hold on its own sword. Taking advantage of that momentary opening, he thrusted his sword forward, and saw it sink into the creature's flesh.

Jumping back, he immediately drew his leg back and charged, the tip of his blade passing right through the chest of the creature as it howled. It didn't get a chance to put up its defenses as its blade suddenly dissolved and the creature was jerked back with the force of the thrust. As he skidded to a halt on the roof, the creature slid back and smashed into the tiles, sending up a storm of dust.

It was only because of the moonlight peeking out from the clouds that Saitou was able to see that the creature was starting to loose some mass and fade in places. Someone was engaging the summoner. Down, but not completely dead yet, the creature attempted to get up, giving him a screechy growl as it slowly loss the shape it had taken. Pushing aside the fatigue that tugged at him, Saitou saw it move, and forced himself to move faster than it could, intercepting what was left of the creature before it could jump back down into the fog to wreak havoc.

The writhing mass that had a seemingly half-melted portion of Udou Jin'e's face still stamped on it lashed out beneath Saitou's blade that had pinned it on the rooftop. However, it was weak and moments later, it suddenly dissolved into a thin wisp. Unlike last time, Saitou's eyes did not water, and as a warm night breeze blew by, it blew the smoke away.

Sweat clung to his forehead, dripping slightly in his eyes as he surveyed the area, letting his keen eyes pick out anything unusual. He could hear the shouts of the policemen below, still putting up a fight, despite the debilitating fog. There was no time to rest, and it was only the sounds of someone jumping onto the rooftop that he was currently on did he turn slightly to see that it was Shinomori who had appeared. However, with the moon disappearing back into the clouds, he only got a glimpse of the blood-covered twin kodachi that was in the former _Okashira_ 's hands before they too, disappeared into the darkness.

Another breeze blew by, carrying the scent of blood and gunpowder, and with it, returned the moonlight. However, Saitou's eyes narrowed slightly as he saw several shinobi leaping across the rooftop to the northeast of where they were. Mentally counting the ones he saw in that brief instant before the moonlight disappeared again, he knew that there were too many of them to be the Oniwabanshuu.

“New arrivals,” he growled. His wounds would have to be tended later, as he saw the faint outline of Aoshi leap back down into the fog, no doubt going to assist the policemen down there. Aoshi's presence in the area would allow Saitou to intercept the new group of shinobi arriving before they could get to where this group of policemen were. He would not allow Akesato or Kitamura Suzu to be bolstered by reinforcements, not while there was still breath in him.

* * *

It was to the faint sounds of fighting going on in the distance that Tetsu woke up, snapping his eyes open and lunged up from the floor. A plop of something heavy and wet onto his lap drew his eyes from the darkness of the room towards himself, where he saw a folded cloth that had been soaked in water, sitting in his lap. Slowly, the memories came back and he realized what had happened.

Flinging the covers that had been draped over him, he scrambled up, feeling a intense wash of dizziness crash over him, forcing him to kneel down. Bracing himself with a hand on the floor, the dizziness subsided after a moment and blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Looking around, he saw familiar objects around the room and realized that he had been placed back in the room he shared with his family at the Aoiya. Glancing back, he saw the deep, even breathing of his wife, still recovering and resting under light covers on the futon she was laying on. His sudden movement had not woken her up, and he hoped that his sudden disappearance, if she even had noticed that he had been brought back by someone, would go unnoticed.

The sounds of a fight on the rooftop near the Aoiya, with the high-pitched _ki-ai_ , told him that it was women fighting, and he could only assume it was most likely Himura Kenshin's wife and possibly some others fighting. As much as he wanted to help, he needed to find his son first, and he was sure that Suzu and his son were waiting for him at Ikedaya.

Tightening a fist, he abruptly got up, pushing the second bout of dizziness away and left the room. Though there were a few lanterns lit the Aoiya, the restaurant-inn was empty of people as he traveled down to the first floor. Suzu wanted him to come alone, and for the sake of his son, he was willing to oblige. He just hoped that the strange fog blanketing the streets would not slow him down as much as he had heard of it doing before.

Cautiously stepping out of the Aoiya, he looked around, noting that the fog, despite having looked quite murky from the rooftops in a sunset glow during their run back to the heart of Kyoto, didn't look thick at all. It was quiet, eerily quiet, and the only other sound he could hear besides the distant shouts of battles above him was his own feet, shuffling in the dusty streets.

When he was a few store shops down from the Aoiya, he glanced back to see that the restaurant-inn was no longer visible – as if the fog had swooped back in to cover it from prying eyes. Chills crawled up and down his body as he turned back and continued walking. He knew that the fog was controlled by enemy shinobi, and if they were allowing him through to his destination, then he could only obey.

If any residents saw him from inside of their houses, he could not see him, but upon turning to a main thoroughfare, the fog parted to show him scores of dead policemen, some killed in the throes of struggle, others, as if they had quietly and peacefully passed away, Many of them still had not drawn their sabres or if they had rifles, had not even fired them. Still, plenty of more that he passed had died in agony of many small blades cutting into them, while others had only one wound, a vital area which rendered an instantaneous death.

Tetsu dared not pick up any weapons, for he did not know if there were enemy shinobi watching him from inside of the fog. If he could negotiate with Suzu for his son's life, then he would do so, unarmed, and pay whatever price was necessary.

* * *

Susumu jumped high in the air, legs burning with the exertion as he pulled out his short blade and at the apex of his jump, allowed the blade to lead the way back down. His aim was true, and the grip on his blade strong – he would never again make the mistake of letting an enemy live to see another day.

He crashed upon the rooftop, sinking his blade into tile a half second after Akesato had snapped open her eyes and rolled out of the way. However, he saw the kick coming in from his right and raised an arm to block the strike, grunting half in pain from the blow, half in effort to keep himself steady. Swinging his short blade up he managed to hit flesh briefly, but with the blade following in behind the fist, the woman had managed to dodge and used him as a springboard to twist away.

Immediately, he took a couple of steps back as she landed on the rooftop in a cat-like manner, splayed out, and warily watching him. The force of Okita's strike had knocked her into a rooftop and that had sheared off her head gear, allowing her flowing straw-colored hair to be picked up by the wind. His own head gear was still on his head, and he couldn't help but think back to the last time they had fought against each other in the moonlit night fifteen years ago. The only difference was that her pale grey-blue eyes held a great amount of fury and agony.

“What's the matter?” he taunted, “Can't control your own people?”

“Shut up,” she bit out, drawing two throwing knives out, one in each hand.

“You shouldn't have returned, woman,” he said, drawing his short blade against the back of his arm so that the edge was facing outward.

“You shouldn't have spared me, Yamazaki,” she coolly replied, spitting blood out onto the rooftop. “You should've stayed in Tokyo and continue being the good doctor. If there's one regret that I have, is that I have to kill you for interfering with my business here.”

Though injured and still stunned by the initial strike, she was still fast, and Susumu was barely able to raise his arms up to block her leaping attack. Her ankle came crashing down upon his arms, forcing him to the ground, as she spun back, and viciously kicked him in the side, knocking him over. Spots raced across his eyes as he smashed into the roof, tucking his head in, as he felt a fist drive into his stomach.

Coughing and curling on himself, he felt his grip on his short blade loosen, while almost blacking out as another fist or foot, he couldn't tell, pummeled him over and over again. Desperately clawing and lashing out, even though he could only see spots before him, he finally snatched something rough, cloth-like and yanked. It was only luck that he had yanked upon one of the loose ends of the kunoichi's clothing, causing the woman to overbalance and trip.

Forcing the pain aside, he rolled away as quick as he could, and back up, hunching over from the pain. Blearily, he saw that his short blade was between him and her, and that despite the stumble, she was already getting back up. His breath was short and each time he tried to suck in air, agonizing pain lanced up and down his body – he knew that the woman had at least fractured some ribs. Strangely enough, other than being punched and kicked, he had felt no sharp blade pierce his body, and only the slight trickle of blood from burst bruises. She was still holding the two throwing knives in her hands, though those gloved hands were covered in blood.

He knew that she was playing with him, whittling him down until he could not move anymore. Then she would kill him. He was determined not to die, but despite the years, she was still too fast, and the only way he could slow her down some more was to stun her again.

“Getting too old, Yamazaki?” she taunted.

“We're just getting started,” he shot back, forcing himself to straighten up.

Pouring as much speed as he could into his legs, he ran, just as she took off, determined to keep him from picking up that short blade again. That was not his goal as he saw her reach for the blade, and he leapt – up and over her head, twisting his body so that when he landed, his hands immediately grabbed her from behind, up and under her arms and locked her in. With a heave, he lifted her up and over his head, falling as quickly as he could to the rooftop. He smashed into the roof as an agonizing cry escaped the kunoichi's lips only to be silenced.

Stunned himself, but not from what he had done, but from the pain that lanced through his body, he laid there for a moment, tangled in between the unconscious woman's legs. Forcing himself to get up, he turned and picked up his short blade that had fallen out of the woman's hand. Angling the tip of his blade towards the woman's neck, he knelt beside her and plunged the blade down--

Only to feel something sharp pierce him, causing him to waver slightly as the tip of his blade became hazy and his vision became unfocused. He only had a moment to see that Akesato's blue-grey eyes were staring at him, and that her arm had been raised towards him. Slowly, his eyes traced the length of the arm, up towards here he saw one of her throwing knives protruding from his stomach.

He tried to will his body to continue forward, to complete his action of stabbing her in the neck before she could get up, but his body would not obey him. He could feel himself falling backwards, the trickle of blood that had been started by the throwing knife in his stomach slowly growing to become a pulsating fountain that would eventually carry his life force away. His short blade was still in his hands as he hit the roof, and moments later, agonizing pain, unlike anything he felt before, rushed across him.

He slowly blinked, trying to force his body to move, to obey, to ignore the pain, as he saw out of the corner of his blurry vision, the woman get up and suddenly move, turning with her back facing him as if there was a new threat. Whatever it was, it became a godsend to him.

Shinobi were always taught to never turn their backs towards any enemy unless they were sure that the enemy had been completely neutralized. Akesato may have thought that he, Susumu, was no longer a threat to contend with, but Susumu thought otherwise. He was down, he was wounded, possibly dying, but he was still a threat; and someone that the kunoichi should have ensured was dead before turning her back upon.

Forcing his body to obey him, he tightened the grip on the short blade, and sat up. Either he was moving faster than he thought he was, or the threat was large enough that Akesato did not notice him, he didn't care. He needed to finish what had been started, and to do that, he continued, forcing himself to stand, and take the steps to close the distance between the kunoichi and him.

She finally noticed him and turned, but it was too late. Wrapping his arms around the kunoichi, pinning her down and in place, he rammed the short blade up through her side, where her rib cage did not protect her, and twisted the blade. He felt her twitch, the only sign of her death throes, and with another twist of his blade, he pulled it out and let her go. She dropped to the rooftop, and Susumu let the short blade clatter with her falling body.

He could fuzzily see dark outlines of people approaching him, but with dizziness and black spots flitting through his vision, he couldn't focus. Giving himself over to the darkness, the last thing he felt was himself tipping over...

“Susumu!”

Susumu blinked as the sounds of the night brought him back to consciousness. He was lying on something comfortable and though there was a dull ache throughout his body, there was no intense pain. He had thought he died, but as he looked up, he saw a pair of concerned eyes, with the rest of the face wrapped in the dark cloth of shinobi, staring at him.

“Susumu,” the face said, and he recognized the slightly muffled voice of Reika behind the face cloth. “Thank goodness you've woken up.”

Gradually, he became aware that there were others around, and as he slowly picked himself up, noting that the stomach wound he had was bandaged tightly, as were other parts of his arms, legs, and chest. He also realized that his head, devoid of his head gear, had been resting on Reika's lap and despite the loss of blood, he still felt his cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment. Looking around, he didn't recognize the dark uniform of the two other shinobi that were crouched on the rooftop, backs towards him, warily watching the cityscape before them.

Akesato's body was missing, and as if answering his unspoken question, Reika said, “She's dead. The others have hauled her body away.”

“Others?” he questioned, as he cautiously sat himself up. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at Otsu.”

“I was,” she said, carefully watching him. “These two, along with a few others,” she said, gesturing to the two shinobi, “are clansmen of old; of the Iga and Kouga clans. They found me at Otsu, showing me letters that Aoshi had written, along with one that strangely, Okita-sensei had also written. They also said that they were going to fulfill an agreement made a long time ago, and to stop their brethren clan.”

“But those letters came back,” he said, still feeling a shortness of breath, as his body protested his lungs pressing into fractured ribs. “I recovered the hawks with those letters unopened.”

“It was a necessary deception,” one of the shinobi said, turning slightly. “Eyes and ears of the foreign enemy were everywhere.”

Susumu slowly nodded, as he realized with joy that help had finally arrived to push back the Fuuma clan of shinobi under the influence of the foreigners and of Kitamura Suzu. “Kyoto is not the only city under attack,” he cautioned.

“We know. Our own eyes and ears have reported back to us,” the same shinobi answered. Susumu attempted to stand, and it was only with the help of Reika, that he was able to. “The one named Ichimura Tatsunosuke, along with his family, are safe. We have also deployed several forces to other nearby cities. Runners have been sent everywhere else to rally smaller clans. We will help the Imperial government in this instance, but we will not linger.”

Susumu nodded to the shinobi's words, knowing and understanding that if something like this ever happened again, the Imperial government would have to face it alone. The new era had provided a quiet, safe haven for the shinobi, tired of war and of the endless bloodshed, and this was to be the last time any neutral clan would side with the government to fight against invaders. That was the price for their intervention.

“How many are there of you?” he asked.

“Enough to turn the tide. Unlike the Oniwabanshuu, we do not like to be named or counted,” the other shinobi answered.

Grateful, no matter how little or great the numbers that had come, he said, “Thank you.”

* * *

The scrape of metal against metal screeched, but Misao's ears were still ringing that she only faintly heard it. She only felt the force of the impact, pushing her back as she tried to hold her ground, but was faltering. Dust kicked up in the air, from kicking and blocking attacks by the enemy shinobi around her and her aunt choked the area, causing her eyes to water, as she struggled to push back against her current attacker. Further reducing her fighting capability was the fact that the fog was hampering her ability to move as fast as she was capable of.

It was only by the grace that Aya, fighting next to her, seemed not to be constrained by the swirling fog, and managed to lash out at the shinobi currently pinning her, Misao, down, drawing the shinobi's attention for a split second. It gave her an opportunity to strike back with a solid kick in between the shinobi's legs, and with a grunt of pain, the enemy shinobi collapsed to his knees, dropping his blade. Misao then immediately followed up with a roundhouse kick to the side of the shinobi's head, knocking the shinobi out.

There were bodies already littered around them in this alleyway, making it hard to find even ground to stand upon, with most of the bodies dead ones, killed by Aya. Misao's unease and queasy stomach had initially rebelled upon seeing the first few shinobi they had ambushed, killed in such a viciously brutal fashion by her aunt, but as enemy reinforcements came, she had squashed that squeamishness down into the depths of her mind. Peoples' lives were at stake, and the softly chanting shinobi that the two of them had found, was not stopped yet.

Said chanting shinobi was protected behind several of his allies, all of whom seemed to be endless. Misao's arms and legs ached with the exertion of throwing her knives, blocking strikes, even lashing out as much as she could to just hit them. She could not keep it up, and she knew that if she tried to escape now, not only would she regret leaving her aunt to face the onslaught alone, she would be pursued.

~~~

Okita gritted his teeth, with the smirk that he initially wore wiped away, as he tasted blood at the back of his mouth. His whole body shuddered with the impact of the creature's overhead strike, amplifying the burning sensation in his lungs. It had initially taken all of his concentration to push the gamut of raw emotions away during the first exchange of blows – he could not let the visage of the man in front of him affect how he fought. He knew that for all his tight mental control on himself, that brief flood of emotion had almost spelled his doom. He was lucky, though, that the creature was only a creature, and not actually Hijikata, or else Hijikata would have already easily defeated him.

The creature had been initially weakened, but not enough that the first two strikes he had made had made any difference in the composition of the creature. His third strike, an opportunity taken with the timely intervention of Yuki who had dashed in to distract before jumping right back out of the fray, had his blade no longer biting into the creature's 'flesh'.

Fire raced inside of his chest as he gulped in air, letting loose a roar and lashed out with his left hand, closing it into a fist and struck at the creature's neck. It did little to impact the creature, who still carried an angry, almost maniacal expression, but Okita did not expect it to. Instead, it gave him the opportunity to use the momentum of his strike, to slip under to the right, grapple the creature by the front of its yukata, and throw it over his shoulder, from left to right, into the roof.

As the creature crashed into the rooftop, he kicked the sword out of the creature's grip, with enough force that if the creature had been an actual human being, it would have broken at least a wrist. Snatching up the discarded blade with his left hand, he jumped back, bringing both swords to bear, watching warily as the creature rolled up from its crash into the tiled rooftop. Dueling with two swords was not something he did often, especially with two katana, but he knew enough basics for a fighting chance.

As the dust from the impact settled, the moonlight slipped under the clouds again, and Okita only had a moment to glimpse a flash of glowing red eyes from the creature, before the creature's sword in his left hand shuddered. “Get out of the way!” he shouted towards his apprentice, half-coughing it out as the sword suddenly took on a life of its own, and attempted to yank him towards where Yuki was, with the boy about to attempt another strike at the creature.

His apprentice dodged the blade, just as a great force yanked it out of his hand. However, the masterless katana did not pursue the boy and instead, turned back. Okita brought his sword up in the nick of time, just as the clang of metal against metal was heard and felt. Unfortunately, with only a blade and nothing behind it, along with the cloudy skies that yielded cover for the sword so that it did not reflect, he could not read the intent behind the strike.

Searing pain suddenly lanced diagonally across his back, causing him to pitch forward slightly before instinct took over and he immediately spun to the right, swing his blade up, while clamping his left hand onto the end of the hilt to give it more power. Meeting him halfway across the retaliatory arc was the blade that had cut into his back, and unfortunately, it seemed that the creature had repossessed its weapon.

~~~

It was only because Misao happened to be staring at the right place at the right time that she saw one of the enemy shinobi near the back of the mass suddenly explode in a shower of blood that she realized what was happening. Fortunately, the enemy shinobi in front of her had also heard the gush of blood, as did some of the others, giving her the opportunity to throw several knives at point-blank range into the enemy shinobi.

Just as the enemy shinobi in front of her fell, another enemy shinobi, this time closer, pitched forward in a shower of blood, and a moment later, the alleyway was filled with the screams of the enemy shinobi, only to be swiftly silenced. Misao found herself being forced back into the wall of a house, as she saw her aunt's arm bar her across her chest, keeping her from stepping into the mass of dark clad shinobi that had rained down from the sky.

She smelled blood, and it was not just from the slaughter that was happening in front of her, but also so close to her – her aunt's arm was soaked in blood, and even though she couldn't see it, she could feel its stickiness soak into her own clothes. She didn't know if it was her aunt's own blood, or from the enemy, but it made her gag. Flecks and small splashes of blood were also flung into her face as the ambushing shinobi made short work of those in the alleyway, but her greatest concern was where the new shinobi came from – there were too many of them here to be counted as Oniwabanshuu, and their uniforms certainly were not of the dark blue color.

Moments after the new group of shinobi crashed into the alleyway, silence filled the area as the other shinobi that she and Aya had been fighting against were all dead. Even though the new group looked to be weaponless, Misao still could not move, for her aunt had not removed her arm just yet. It was only to the sound of approaching footsteps in the alleyway did Misao see who emerged from the fog.

“Aoshi-sama!” she cried, seeing the love of her life approaching in a fairly relaxed fashion with his kodachi sheathed. The arm across her chest loosened slightly as she shook off her aunt and scrambled towards him. If he was not reacting to the new shinobi as a threat, then they meant no harm.

However, she only got two steps away from the side of the street when she heard a shuffling sound behind her and turned to see her aunt pitch forward, just as a couple of the new shinobi stepped forward to catch her. “Aya-oba!” she shouted, horrified as one of the shinobi who had caught Aya flipped her over, revealing multiple wounds that she had sustained, in battle, along with the re-opening of several wounds that had been healing from the police station explosion.

It was then that she realized just how many times her aunt had protected her during the fight – whereas she got away with only scrapes and an aching body, her aunt had taken the brunt of the attack upon herself. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she marshaled her emotions, fighting to control herself – she would not cry – it would only serve no purpose.

“ _Okashira_ ,” Aoshi rumbled from beside her, as she looked up, sniffling slightly, terrified and worried for her aunt, who looked too pale, even with what little light could penetrate the fog. “Please check up on those fighting the creature that had been summoned. I will handle this.”

“Who are they?” she managed to say, eyeing the shinobi surrounding her.

“Allies,” Aoshi answered.

“Kouga and Iga?” she questioned. “They answered our call?”

“Yes. Two of them will accompany you.”

“All right,” she said, swallowing the relief as she focused herself again. Though she was reluctant to leave, she had a duty to ensure that others were being assisted with their new found allies. Yuki and his master were the first priority, especially before the creature had attacked the two, Okita looked as if he was at death's door. There was also the necessity of rectifying the mistake she made by letting her awareness slip earlier and had allowed herself to be caught off guard with the two foreign shinobi.

Scampering up to the rooftops, she bounded across the tiles, with two of their new allies following her, hot on her heels.

~~~

The high-pitched cry of Yuki's _ki-ai_ split the air as out of the corner of his eyes, Okita saw his apprentice leap up high into the air to bring his wakizashi down in an overhead blow onto the creature. Unexpectedly, the pressure against his blade, along with the oppressive feeling weighing down his mind, disappeared. Quickly pulling his sword back, his apprentice crashed into the roof moments later, and lost his balance.

Flinging out a hand, he managed to snag his apprentice by the scruff of his uwagi, hauling him back to a more stable area on the rooftop. However, that movement caused not only sharp pain to lance across his wounded back, but also a shortness of breath. Struggling to breathe, he saw black spots appear before his eyes as the moon peeked out once again, from behind the clouds. It illuminated the entire area and only the sections of the rooftops where craters had been created by the fight remained – the creature had all but vanished into thin air.

“Sensei!” his apprentice cried as he let him go. Yuki tried to approach, but Okita waved him away; he did not want his apprentice anywhere near him, especially when the unwanted but familiar feeling of a great amount of force was building up in his lungs.

“Stay back!” he managed to say, bending slightly over, trying to ease the pressure on his chest, refusing to stab his sword into the rooftop and use it as a cane to keep him standing upright.

“Okita-sensei! Yuki!” he heard Misao cry out, and as the pressure in his lungs slowly died, saw her along with two other dark-clothed shinobi running towards them. The two shinobi following Misao were not clothed in the blue hues of the Oniwabanshuu and with a start, he realized that the call for shinobi allies had been answered. How many, he didn't know, but he was glad.

However, before relief could even begin to soak into him, a chill passed through him, as he felt a sharp, powerful but warm presence radiate from a particular area. Turning his gaze, he noted that the three shinobi approaching had also felt it and had halted. He knew that presence, and though during the revolution, that warm presence felt like a firestorm during a fight, in the new era, Himura Kenshin's presence was a hellish inferno. There was still another creature on the loose, and he could feel the ex-Hitokiri's presence wildly fluctuate before feeling a significant drop in the presence.

“Yukimura-kun,” he said, before trying to clear his throat so that his words didn't feel like burning coals scraping in his throat. “Stay with Misao-chan. Have her and the others find the shinobi summoning a creature where the Hitokiri Battousai is. I am going to help him.”

Without a glance back at his apprentice or towards the shinobi, he started running towards presence of Himura and of the creature, hoping that what little strength he had left would be enough.

* * *

Blood trickled down Kenshin's arm as it mingled in with his sweat, and though the wound was deep, he ignored it and concentrated on slowing his breathing. There was a dull ache in his arms, caused by the amount of force to counter each strike from the creature that was now fighting him. His initial strike had sent the creature down into the streets, right into a cluster of policemen. He had immediately rectified that by unleashing a combo attack and drew it back up to the rooftops before it could do much damage.

There was nary a scratch on the creature as he willed his labored breathing to stop. He was tired, but knew that he could not stop, could not let the creature get away. His grip on his sakabatou tightened as he warily eyed the creature, its red hair tied up in a high pony tail, and its golden eyes cold, and calculating, as if it knew what he was going to do.

“Come,” the creature growled, startling Kenshin just slightly enough at the sound of his own voice, coming from his doppelganger that the tip of his sword wavered slightly.

It was the same arrogant, commanding tone that he remembered using so many times whenever there was a target or collateral that had been protecting his target, was waiting for him to move first. He refused to be baited by his own self, to give in to the urge to strike first, even though he was sure that despite his exhaustion, he could still hide trying to telegraph his first strike.

Instead, he stepped back, sheathing his sakabatou, and drew his leg back. Angling his body downwards, he swept his right hand to the front and down, ready to snatch his sword. His left hand twisted the scabbard slightly out, while his left thumb was poised at the hilt of his blade, ready to push it out of the scabbard. He had been warned to never continue to use the final technique, but after exhausting almost every other technique except for this one and the predecessor technique that led to this one, he had no other choice.

He had to use it before his strength died.

As if answering his unconscious prayer, two chillingly powerful presences suddenly entered his awareness, and a few moments later, he heard two people land on the rooftop where he and his doppelganger creature were facing off. Grim satisfaction quirked the corner of his lips up, as he pulled himself deeper into storm of ken-ki that had bloomed with the arrival of Hajime Saitou and Okita Souji.

Their presences, with Saitou on the opposite end of the rooftop, and Okita near the middle, almost boxing in the creature, did not give Kenshin strength, but gave him reassurance that whatever happened next, one of the three of them would take out the creature.

He could see the eyes of the creature narrow slightly, assessing the threat that had now surrounded it, but it was Saitou who broke the silence, saying, “They haven't found the shinobi yet.”

“Our allies are already looking for the summoner,” Okita curtly said, his voice hoarse. The swordsman slid into a familiar stance that Kenshin recognized to be _Sandanzuki_. “All we need to do is keep it occupied.”

He didn't puzzle over the 'allies', but if it was people that the two ex-Shinsengumi members trusted, then he would place that trust in them. However, his thoughts were quickly dashed as he saw the creature suddenly back away, seeking to escape. Faster than he anticipated, it seemingly disappeared before his eyes.

He did not even get a chance to blink before an inhuman howl filled the air as the creature appeared on the rooftop again, this time, flying backwards. Fragments of tiles flew into the air as the creature skidded towards Saitou, and a split-second later, the wave of air displaced by the force of the blow, struck more tiles off of the roof. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Okita reappear, slamming his sword into the slanted roof, sliding to a halt, having unleashed _Sandanzuki_. Even in the partial moonlight, the former First Unit Captain looked too pale to be normal, and seemed to be struggling to even breathe.

Kenshin could not worry about Okita, as he saw Saitou prepare himself to intercept the flying creature. The all knew that going into this, there were potentials for casualties, especially on their side. The protection of the people of Kyoto was their priority. He refocused himself and took a deep, calming breath. Okita's ken-ki was still strong in this storm, and Saitou's had just spiked in preparation. Whatever technique Saitou was going to do, it would inevitably send the creature flying back straight at him, and he was ready to strike.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am an equal-opportunity, injury-to-all kind of writer. I have my favorite characters in RK and PMK, and would not like to hurt them in my fics, but for this fic, I'm grounding it partially in reality and taking a leaflet from the first RK OAV/OVA. I suppose that I'm one of the few that really enjoyed the first OAV/OVA because of the lack of slapstick (as opposed to the manga).
> 
> That all being said, I think there's going to be at least three (maybe four) more chapters to this fic. We're nearly at the end!


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Tetsu stared at the building that was directly in front of him as the memories of a time long past washed over him. Echoes of men fighting and shouting epithets, the clash of swords, rifles being fired, and of men dying seemed to come to life for an instant before they were immediately silenced with a shake of his head. Outwardly, Ikedaya had not changed, not since that fateful day, fifteen years ago, but if he squinted hard enough, letting the sliver of moonlight peeking from underneath the clouds, he could see newer woodwork and paint on some parts of the exterior, when compared to the old. Strangely though, there were no visible lights from the windows of the building, and it sat, eerily quiet on the street, as if it had been abandoned.

When a ghostly hand brushed across his back, Tetsu stilled himself, willing not to jump up in fright and turned to face whoever had done that. However, there was no person behind him, and only the seemingly towering wall of fog that rose up to touch the leading edge of the rooftops. Indeed, as he looked around, it seemed that the fog was pushing him to enter the building. He had no choice, and if this was where Suzu had his son, then he would go and do whatever was necessary to ensure that his son was safe and would live.

“Pardon me for entering,” he said, as he crossed the threshold. A strange smell assaulted his nose but was not his immediate concern for before his eyes, he saw the unmistakable outline of a body lying on the floor near the entrance.

Hurrying to the body, he turned the dead man over, wondering if this person was Ikedaya's new owner, and saw that the man had been stabbed once through his chest. The man's eyes was glazed over in agony, but there seemed to be a scrap of cloth in the man's hand. Forcing the dead man's hand open, he took the scrap out and with despair, saw that it was a piece of the summer yukata that his son had been wearing when he had been kidnapped. The dead man must've tried to take Toshirou back from Suzu, but had died in the attempt. Gently closing the man's eyes, he pocketed the piece of cloth into his sleeve and stood up.

“Toshirou!” he yelled, hoping that his son was conscious and could hear him and respond. Silence answered his call, but a few moments later, there was the unmistakable sound of laughter, chillingly mad laughter, that seemed to echo throughout this seemingly empty inn. “Where the hell are you, Suzu?!” he screamed. “Where is my son?”

“Come, my dear Tetsu,” Suzu's voice seemed to echo from the back of the inn. “Your most precious person is here.”

Despite wanting to go upstairs to check and ensure that Suzu was not bluffing, he could feel an urgency in the man's words. Promising himself that if Suzu was lying, then he would turn right back and rush upstairs, no matter what happened. With the strange smell still wafting around the area, he started down the long, dark hall that was only illuminated by the moonlight. Finally entering the back area of the inn, he let his instincts pick out exactly which room Suzu was hiding in.

Sliding the partition open he stepped in and saw no one in the room, but his instincts told him that there was someone sitting in the adjoining room, the room that was the closest to the back entrance to the inn. Cautiously approaching the opposite side of the room, he slid the partition back and was rewarded with the sight of the man he had called 'friend' so long ago, sitting in seiza with a cushion underneath him at the center of the room.

Dressed in a dark grey summer yukata, Suzu's eyes were closed, and it looked as if the man was sleeping, but Tetsu could see the tense posture, read the fact that he was ready to strike at a moment's notice. Years of observing his fellow Shinsengumi members had told him to never disturb anyone sitting like that. Suzu had grown his pale hair out enough that he had tied it back in a tall pony tail, and Tetsu was struck with a sudden realization that Suzu's appearance, for all intents and purposes, was very similar to Yoshida all those years ago. Though Suzu's blood-red scabbard and blade with the white wrapping was sitting at his side, Tetsu saw a daisho pair sitting next to that blade. Of Tetsu's son, Toshirou, there was no sign of him.

Before he could turn around, something flashed by him so quickly that he could only see a grey blur and nothing else. The door to the adjacent inner room slammed closed and he blinked, partially in surprise to see that Suzu standing before him, his face twisted into a snarl. “Pick up the swords,” Suzu demanded, placing his own katana back into the left side of the waist strap of his yukata. “It would be a pitiful end to our reunion after fifteen years to see you cut down so easily.”

Keeping the anger from his face, Tetsu glanced back to see the daisho still sitting next to the cushion. Turning back to face the man, he said, “No. Give my son back and then I'll fight you.”

“You're willing to traumatize your son with your own death?!” Suzu said in a half-crazed, half-incredulous tone before bursting into laughter that sounded quite maniacal. As soon as his laughter died, Tetsu narrowed his eyes slightly as he saw something small appear in Suzu's fingers. There was a small sound of something being scraped over the hilt of Suzu's blade and a second later, a small flame was lit on the match that the man was holding by the tips of his fingers. “Pick up that daisho and fight me, coward. Or else I burn this place down with your son inside of it.”

“Don't do it!” he shouted, quickly backing up so that his feet bumped into the swords. That was what the strange smell was – Suzu had completely soaked the tatami mats and possibly the walls with oil. “I'll fight,” he said, keeping an eye on the small flame in Suzu's hands as he crouched down and picked up the daishou, hastily putting the pair into his hakama's waist strap. “I'll fight you,” he croaked out, swallowing his fear at not only just how close death had been for his son, but also the painful, frightening memories he had of fire burning in an enclosed place.

“I never knew why you feared fire, Tetsu dear,” Suzu said, advancing the few steps into the back room, continuing to hold the lit match in a menacing manner. “But when I looked back at what I had failed to do for my master, and what he had to do, I realized why he did what he did.” Suzu's voice dropped low and growling as he said, “You polluted my thoughts. You made me turn against my master. You killed him, Ichimura Tetsunosuke. Had you have been at Hakodate that day, then we would not be here. Alas, you were a coward and ran, but now, you have no where to run. You _will_ see your family die.”

“I didn't kill him,” he said, mentally begging forgiveness to Okita for what he was about to say. “I didn't kill your master, Suzu. Shinsengumi First Unit Captain Okita Souji did.”

“Lies!” Suzu bellowed.

“Suzu! Don't!” he screamed, as he saw Suzu flick the still-burning match backwards, towards the ground.

Pain blossomed across his midsection as he was swiftly kicked by Suzu, flying backwards and out into the back of Ikedaya, just as the lit match touched the oil-soaked tatami mat and burst into flames. Rolling across the dusty ground, he came to a halt and sucked in a painful breath, as he snapped open his eyes and looked up to see that the inn had become quickly engulfed in flames. Pure ice-cold rage, unlike anything he had felt since that fateful fight at Ikedaya against Yoshida, poured into him as his eyes locked onto the one man standing between him and the rescue of his son.

With a roar, he stood up as his hands clamped down on the swords at his side, and pulled the katana and wakizashi out. The young wolf's fangs were sharpened and bared as Tetsu leapt towards Suzu, determined to kill him.

* * *

Kenshin saw the creature suddenly back away, golden eyes shifting this and and that, seeking to escape. Faster than he anticipated, it seemingly disappeared before his eyes. He did not even get a chance to blink before an inhuman howl filled the air as the creature appeared on the rooftop again, this time, flying backwards.

Fragments of tiles flew into the air as the creature skidded towards Saitou, and a split-second later, the wave of air displaced by the force of the blow, struck more tiles off of the roof. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Okita reappear, slamming his sword into the slanted roof, sliding to a halt, having unleashed _Sandanzuki_ against the creature.

The creature's wild careen across the rooftop was savagely halted not a moment later by Saitou who roared as he unleashed a point-blank _Gatotsu_ right into the chest of the creature. Even before Saitou had finished the attack, time seemed to slow down around Kenshin as he sprinted across the rooftop, determined to unleash his final technique on the creature before it even had a remote chance of recovering from the devastating combination of attacks. He stepped in with his left foot, just as his right hand clamped down on the hilt and drew his sakabatou.

Faster than the eye could see, the sharp edge of it sliced up through the air, aimed squarely at the creature's torso. Just as it was about to smash into dense 'flesh', an incredible force slammed into his sword, blocking the strike. The impact cause the air around Kenshin and the creature to crackle for a moment before the air displaced bowed out and blew not only the tiles off, but also pieces of the underlying straw and wood materials.

Kenshin forced his left hand to pull the bottom of the hilt downwards, slowly scraping his blade up along the creature's own, as his right hand maintained the force necessary to counteract the stopped strike. Turning towards the right, he managed to pushed with all of his strength and spun, creating a void of displaced air between him and the creature. As the creature slipped, he continued his whirl and a moment later, saw the face of his old self out of the corner of his eyes again. With hands clamped down on his sakabatou, he readied to strike, but the image of the creature before his eyes wavered slightly, only to be replaced by someone he thought he would never see again.

_Tomoe_...

He could feel the weight of his blade in his hands, the grip slackening slightly as his eyes grew wide and his body hesitated to complete the strike. The woman who changed his life, was standing before him, dressed in the snow-white kimono with a dark blue obi and light purple lilies decorating the bottom edge of it. However, there was a gruesome red stain that slowly started from her right shoulder and seeped through the fabric in a diagonal course towards her waist.

Despair clutched at his heart, constricting it until he could no longer breathe, as his mind entered a fog. He saw, seemingly as a third person, watching this cruel visage take form, the image of his first wife, killed by his own hand, flicker for a moment. Just as the image of Yukishirou Tomoe was replaced by his old self again, Kenshin snapped out of the fog that had gripped his mind, knowing that it was too late to avoid the attack. That hesitation to strike at the image of his first wife, was his undoing.

Even as he aborted the second attempt at unleashing Hiten Mitsurugi's final technique, the tip of the enemy's blade was already closing in on him. He felt it pierce his chest, just as he tried to bring his sakabatou up in a defensive block, but it was too late. However, the excruciating agony from a blade skewering him that he expected did not blossom on his side, and instead, a blurred hand pushed him back, while the glint of another blade, this time swining upwards, knocked the creature's blade out and away.

Kenshin stumbled back, breathing hard and eyes hazy with pain. He saw the creature lash out with a swift kick, striking Okita, who had intercepted and knocked the creature's blade out of its hands, square in his stomach. The ex-Shinsengumi gave a strangled cry as he flew back and landed quite haphazardly on the roof, unmoving.

Before Kenshin could bring himself to attack again, he saw the tip of another blade emerge from the forehead of the creature. It had been slammed into the back of the creature's head by Saitou, but the creature swiftly recovered from the attack, seemingly pivoting its entire body around the point in which Saitou's sword had stabbed into it.

It then proceeded to pummel Saitou with a series of kicks and punches that was too fast for even Kenshin to follow, but was so short that he did not even have time to react to the attack. A moment later, Saitou flew back, stunned, and Kenshin saw the ex-Shinsengumi's sword fly from his hand.

In that split second between the creature being pinned by Saitou and the brutal attack on him, Kenshin knew then that whatever had happened in that short amount of time, the creature's master was under attack – the creature was malleable and one good strike would possibly cause it to disappear. The clattering of Saitou's sword on the rooftop was only an echo in his mind as something out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He saw a glint of metal in the air, shining with the moonlight, and knew that the creature was calling its sword back. He had to strike now.

“Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu – Kuzuryuusen!”

Nine vital points, struck all at once; on a person it would've been fatal, but on a creature that was shadow and light, it didn't matter if the sakabatou was reversed or not – the results were the same. Just as Kenshin skidded to a halt on the rooftop, the creature behind him blew apart. The force of the strike was so powerful that the poisonous smoke it carried in its 'blood' had all but evaporated, leaving ghostly remains scattered through the area.

Kenshin struggled to draw breath in, feeling his strength ebb, and though he wanted to close his eyes, he dared not to. Turning slightly from where he had halted in a crouch, he saw the remains of the creature attempt to congeal, to draw back together, but it seemed that it could not. Slowly, he used his sakabatou as an aid, letting it take his weight as he stabbed it into the rooftop and got up. He then sheathed his sword, for there was not an immediate threat around the area to keep it out.

The sounds of scraping against what was left of the tiles and materials on this particular roof caused him to turn to his right to see that Saitou was also slowly picking himself up. A little ways across, he could see Okita stirring and approached, careful to avoid where the creature's remains were. There was still an acrid smell from the scattered pieces, but it wasn't very potent, and he could only assume that somehow, the creature had been laced with some kind of debilitating poison that was no longer effective.

With Saitou following behind him, he stopped and offered a hand down to Okita, who had managed to right himself up to a crouch. Grateful for the assistance, the former First Unit Captain accepted the hand and Kenshin pulled him up, but did not comment on just how wheezy and labored Okita's breathing was. The fact that all three of them were still alive and standing was enough for him.

As Okita sheathed his own blade, it was Saitou who spotted it first, drawing the their attention to the building in the distance, saying, “I smell smoke.”

Kenshin sniffed the air, and indeed, there was the faint scent of smoke, and a few moments later, in the distance, he saw the faint light of a building starting to become enveloped in flames. Something about that particular area nagged at him, but he could not place why the area looked familiar.

“Ikedaya,” Aoshi's voice spoke up from behind them, causing the three of them to turn slightly. Kenshin had momentarily forgotten that many of the Oniwabanshuu and most likely most shinobi, had the ability to conceal their presences – hence why none of the three had felt the master shinobi approach.

“Then--” Okita began.

“That's where Kitamura and Ichimura's son are,” Saitou stated.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know its a short chapter. I couldn't find a good place to halve the rest of the fic except for at this part and just before the epilogue (so probably two more chapters after this one).
> 
> Also, I'm a fan of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu attack, Kuzuryuusen. Words literally escape me if I try to describe just how awesome it is (description insert fail). However, words tend not to get uttered if I try to describe how epically I failed when I attempted to mime it one random day after Kendo practice.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta reader sort of half-beta'ed it (beta is quite busy with writing fanfics), but did not thoroughly vet this chapter. At least one character may be OOC, so apologies in advance.

**Chapter 21**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

Tetsu spun and landed painfully on the ground as he was clocked on the side of his head by a bony elbow. The world around him spun in a fiery storm that was mingled with the cackling laughter of Suzu. His body ached, with the wounds he had sustained from Suzu's blade mingling freely with the sweat caused not only by their fight but also just how close they were to the burning building. Forcing himself to get up, he slowly lifted his head as he stabbed the ground with his blades, using them to help push his protesting body up and out of the dirt.

Scorching heat from the aflame building seemingly burned across his already overheated body, and the smoke was choking him, but the structure was still standing, and despite the short amount of time that had passed, he still held out hope that his son was somewhere in there, still alive. Yanking his swords out of the ground, he flicked them and took a basic guard stance, carefully watching Suzu who had an imperious look to his face as he too stood at a simple guard stance. The only consolation he had was at least Suzu had enough honor left to let him stand, instead of attempting to kill him when he was still on the ground.

He raised his swords again and charged, striking overhead with the katana in his right hand, to which it was blocked by Suzu's own blade. His eyes tracked Suzu angling to protect his right side, anticipating an attack there, but Tetsu immediately twirled the wakizashi in his left hand around, striking not at Suzu's torso, but at the man's right leg, sinking the blade into it. He heard Suzu howl in pain as the weight against his own katana faltered for a moment before his vision was briefly filled with the sight of blood. Pain unlike anything he had felt before seared into his consciousness as he stumbled back, with his right eye going completely black as he felt blood gush from the side of his face.

His blades came with him too as his left eye watered uncontrollably with pain and he felt a rawness in his throat, barely comprehending that it was him who was screaming in pain. Smoke from the burning building was also contributing to the sting, but that sting in his left eye was nothing compared to the excruciating pain lancing through his right. He was dimly aware that he had dropped both of his swords as his hands came up to clutch the right side of his face. As he dropped to his knees, he could feel hot blood gushing from the multiple gashes on his face.

Even in the midst of all this, his left eye tracked Suzu, and saw that the man had retaliated by clawing at his right eye, leaving a deep mark. Blood...his blood was dripping crimson red down the fingertips of Suzu, who had a furious look on him, but had not moved from where he was standing. A shuddering laughter emerged from Suzu's lips as Tetsu's body caught up with the shock of the attack and black spots started appearing through Tetsu's left eye.

Scrambling as he fought to stave off his body's need to stop the damage done, he spread his bloodied hands out in an attempt to find his swords again, all the while keeping his one good eye on Suzu. Firelight from the inferno engulfing Ikedaya cast Suzu in a horrible light that made him seem demonic looking, enough that Tetsu's breath hitched with his old, fearful memories nearly overtaking him.

His son...his young son, Toshirou, not even as old as he had been when he lost his parents to the dark shadow of a man who had killed them and torched his home... still stuck in the burning building. Imaginary screams bellowed their way upon his ears, as his breath started to get fainter, shorter, seizing inside of his lungs; all the while with the insane laughter mingling with the echoes of screams. He couldn't...he could not move, could not breathe, could feel the world spinning around him as his left eye continue to stare at the inferno, of the dark shadow that stood before it, laughing that laugh from so many years ago. Swords, he couldn't find his swords, dropped next to him--

There! His left hand had found the hilt of his wakizashi and as he snatched it up, he gasped as three powerful presences suddenly dropped into the area, feeling the earth beneath him shudder slightly at the not-so-soft landing. The world still spun around him as he faintly heard one of the three state, “It's over, Kitamura Suzu.”

There was a fourth, almost cat-like landing behind him, but it was too late...there was nothing else crossing his mind – for the dark shadow to surrender was not acceptable, not after all that had happened. And while the man that he had called 'friend' so long ago was alive, then there would never be any peace for Tetsu or his family.

The wakizashi in his left hand flew through the air, end over end, twirling as if it were a leaf on the wind, sailing towards its target. Honed by years and years of throwing coins into offering boxes, Tetsu watched the blade fly, glinting off of the firelight that seemed to compliment the growing dark spots in his left eye as the world around him became fainter and fainter. Struggling to stay awake, for he had to, in order to save his son, he saw one final reflection of the blade against the firelight. It was aimed straight at the dark man's unprotected heart, and before it struck, darkness overtook him, sending him into silent oblivion.

~~~

Kenshin's feinting first strike, a simple battoujutsu draw that deflected not only Ichimura's thrown wakizashi and Kitamura's attempt to block the incoming strike, was quickly followed by the successive strike of his scabbard. The loud cracks of two bones were heard as the scabbard connected with Kitamura's arms, breaking both of them. As Kitamura went down onto his knees, howling in pain, Kenshin was not done just yet, even though he had completed the moves for _Souryuusen_ , he spun back around, one last time, ignoring his own body's pain, screaming at him to stop. The flat end of his blade connected with the side of the mad man's head, knocking him out.

Breathing a sigh of relief, though choking slightly because of the smoke, he sheathed his blade and turned, just in time to see Saitou walk up and crouch beside Kitamura. He saw Saitou reach into the folds of Kitamura's outfit and take a folded piece of paper out, pocketing it in his own clothes. The policeman then grabbed Kitamura by the sleeve of the man's outfit and drag the unconscious man away. Though greatly wounded, Kenshin could see that pride did not allow Saitou to walk with any sort of limp.

He followed, and ahead of him, saw that Okita was crouched beside, Ichimura, but had not attempted to wake the man up. Okita looked to be on the verge of passing out, with only instincts keeping him awake. Aoshi was standing a little ways back, near the back entrance's street that was now devoid of fog. The Oniwabanshuu's clothing was smoking and quite patchy in places. Parts of his exposed skin were singed and blackened slightly, but there was a young boy in his arms. Said young boy, Ichimura Toshirou, was still unconscious, but was reflexively coughing, which was a good sign.

“It is over,” he heard Okita haggardly whisper.

“That it is,” he confirmed.

* * *

Chirping birds and a decidedly warm but fresh-smelling breeze wafted across his face caused him to slowly wake up, until he could hear the rustle of clothing, along with some strange grinding sounds that sent him into consciousness. Blinking heavily, he felt his eyelids scrape over his dry eyes until moments later, they felt better and he opened them...only to find that he had a narrow field of vision, and that it was only out of his left eye.

It was in that moment that everything that had happened at Ikedaya came rushing back to him and Tetsu reacted by lunging up from where he had been lying prone. Hands grasped at him as he gasped, feeling both of his eyes moving wildly around, taking in whatever surroundings he could see, but it was still from his left eye – he could not see out of his right eye. A circular white wall with open windows interspersed every so often, framed by western beds with clean white linen, along with some partitions around a few of those beds, occupants who were swathed in bandages, surrounded him. Where was he and why could he not see out of his right eye?

“Easy, Tetsu,” a familiar voice spoke up to his right. “You're in the recovery ward of Matsumoto-sensei's temporary hospital in Kyoto.”

He turned his head slightly and immediately calmed down as he saw Susumu, sitting next to him, though there was a slight breakout of sweat on his friend's forehead. Dr. Matsumoto, who had absolutely no relation to Kyoto's spymaster, had been Susumu's teacher throughout the days that Susumu had served with the Shinsengumi as both a shinobi and a field medic. The doctor had opened up a hospital in Edo before the revolution's end, and Susumu had stayed there to help his teacher before opening up his own clinic after the new era had been ushered in.

He glanced down and saw that it had been Susumu who had caught him and kept him from lashing out. There was another pair of arms around him and he looked to his left to see the relieved face of his wife. Saya's eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and though there were dark circles under her eyes, the fact that she was fully awake and sitting next to him on the left was a joy to him. However, that joy was tempered with the sight of who was lying on the bed to the left of him.

He saw his young son quietly resting with his eyes closed, almost peaceful except for the fact that even though the sheets had not been pulled all the way up, he could see swaths of bandages wrapped around his son's small frame under the hospital's clean yukata. Someone had rescued him from the fire, and whoever it had been, he was eternally grateful. He felt the pressure of hands that had held him back ease, with a crunchy sound from Susumu's side starting up again, as the cool touch of Saya's hands gently rested on the sides of his face, and turned his narrowed vision back to his wife.

Lifting one of his own hands from under the cover, he found it to be bandaged up, and though his skin felt itchy underneath the strips of cloth wound around his arms, he did not scratch. However, his aim for his wife's hands was slightly off as he touched her arms first before finding her hands. She grasped his hand and directed it towards the right side of his face. Even from what little he felt, he knew that there was bandages wound around his head and across his right eye – perhaps that was why he could not see out of his right eye.

As Saya placed his hand down again, he turned to see Susumu twisting the stone knob into a small bowl-sized herbal grinder. There was a faintly strange smell emanating from the herbal grinder, but was quickly carried away by the breeze. As if knowing that he was curious about what exactly was in that bowl, Susumu looked up and said, “This is going to be come an herbal paste for that wound on your head, Tetsu. It needs to be ground up finely and then mixed with some water. It doesn't smell like much right now, but once--”

“Yamazaki-sensei,” a voice rumbled from the entrance way into the circular room, causing the three of them to look up. Though it had been years since Tetsu saw Dr. Matsumoto, it seemed like the famous doctor had not even aged, though his shiny bald head was still devoid of hair and bushy beard was trimmed quite neatly. Even the monocle that he wore still looked the same. “Yamazaki-sensei, you should not be out of bed,” the doctor said in a kind tone, though Tetsu could hear the steel admonishment behind those words.

It was then he realized as he turned his gaze fully onto Susumu that his friend was wearing the exact same kind of white hospital yukata and that the bed to his right was empty. There were also bandages peeking out of the top edges of the yukata, and it seemed that his friend was hunched over more than he usual did, when sitting on a western chair. What the hell was his friend thinking, trying to heal him, Tetsu, when he himself was still injured?

“You idiot,” he muttered, as Susumu merely shot him a mild look before taking one last glance at Dr. Matsumoto and deciding that it was not worth whatever other words the doctor was going to say. Placing the grinding bowl down, Susumu hopped back into the bed next to Tetsu, though he remained sitting up on the bed until a further glare from Dr. Matsumoto caused him to slide back down into the covers.

“Now, Ichimura-san,” Dr. Matsumoto said as he approached, with a tray that had bandages and a small bowl of water, and took the seat that had been vacated by Susumu. The tray was placed at the foot of the bed. “Now that you're awake, let me undo that bandage over your eye and take a good look at the wounds.”

With hands gentler than he expected, Tetsu patiently sat still as the doctor carefully undid the bandage, letting his left eye take in the room. Most of the beds in this area of the temporary hospital were occupied, and sadness tugged at his heart as he saw just how many familiar faces were lying on the beds. Besides himself, his son, and Susumu, there were also Aoshi and Aya across the room, both of whom were currently either sleeping or still unconscious, but also covered in bandages. Surprisingly, sitting up in a bed, reading a newspaper was Saitou's wife, Tokio, though from his viewpoint, it didn't look as if she had been injured too greatly. Lying next to her was Saitou, though from where he was sitting, he could not tell if Saitou was awake or not. Knowing the man, Tetsu could only assume that Saitou was not awake, otherwise, he could not see Saitou being compliant enough to actually stay in a hospital.

Three of the Oniwabanshuu members were also lying on beds here, and though Tetsu struggled to remember their names, he managed to identify them: Masukami, Shiroujou, and Kuroujou. All three were unconscious and looked almost as pale as the sheets they were lying on. The old proprietor, Kashiwazaki Nenji, and the other kunoichi, Oumime, were not present.

Himura Kenshin's bed was sandwiched between Masukami and Susumu, but Tetsu saw him lying prone and awake, staring up at the ceiling. It was only seeing Himura blink did he know that the ex-assassin was alive and not in a waking coma. It looked as if the man was lost in his own world and Tetsu felt no compunction to disturb him.

That completed the half circle, and he looked over out of the corner of his eyes, towards a bed that had privacy partitions drawn about it. Three empty beds on either side of the partitioned off area separated that bed from the rest in the recovery area. “Pardon me, Matsumoto-sensei, but who is recovering there?”

He lifted an arm, pointing to the partitioned bed, and the good doctor said, “Ah, that would be Shirou Kaneyoshi, but I believe that you know him as Okita Souji.”

“We don't know if his disease is progressing or not,” Susumu supplied from where he was lying, having turned slightly towards them. “By rights he should be in another area of the hospital, but with everything going on out side, along with government officials in the city, it was better to let him recover here among friends than left in an unfamiliar area.”

“Government officials?” Tetsu asked, but did not receive his answer as he saw and felt a tug on his forehead's skin before the last piece of the bandage that had been covering his eye was removed. Blinking, he wondered why he still could not see out of his right eye, even with the bandage now off. Gingerly reaching up, he felt Dr. Matsumoto grasp his right hand and set it back down on the bed. “Why can't I see?” he asked, turning his head slightly so that he had a good view of the doctor with his left eye.

The doctor was silent for a few moments, but Tetsu could see that there was a saddened expression that fell across his face. “Ichimura-san,” Dr. Matsumoto began in a heavy tone, “The wounds you sustained across this part of your face have been healing nicely, but I cannot do anything about your right eye. I'm afraid that you may never recover sight in that eye.”

“Oh,” he numbly said after a moment, feeling as if the world around him receded quite a bit as he sat there, trying to comprehend what the doctor had just said. If the price that he had to pay was his eye in order to see his son and his family safe again, then he would gladly pay it. The fact that there seemed to be no immediate rush or danger around the area meant that Suzu and the nightmare that had followed him had been successfully stopped. However, time had tempered him and he was well aware of what exactly it had taken to stop Kitamura Suzu, the foreign woman named Akesato, and the forces that had aided in their revenge.

“Ichimura-san? Are you all right?” Dr. Matsumoto's kind inquiry brought him out of his musings as he looked back up, while grasping onto Saya's hands with his left.

“I will be,” he said, though his voice wavered. Clearing his throat slightly, he asked, “What of our son?”

“He will recover,” the doctor answered. “His burn wounds will heal and since he is young, they will not leave many visible scars. The largest obstacle in his recovery is that he breathed in a lot of smoke, and will have shortness of breath whenever he exerts himself too much, but in time, he will recover from that too.”

“Thank you very much, doctor,” Tetsu said, bowing as deeply as he could manage without trying to pull too much on his own healing wounds. Out of the corner of his eyes, he also saw Saya do the same, though she had stood up from her chair to properly bow. “Please let us know what we can do to repay you.”

“Just get better, Ichimura-san,” the doctor said after a moment. “That is all I wish for, for any of my patients.”

Despite the terms, Tetsu managed not to splutter and after a moment of holding the bow just a little longer, he righted himself, seeing a smile on the doctor's face as the doctor took the tray from the foot of the bed and mixed the bowl of water with whatever herbs that had been ground in the grinding bowl. A repugnant smell immediately filled the air as Tetsu wrinkled his nose and watched the doctor mix the contents in the bowl until a paste had been made.

“What about the others?” he asked, as the doctor applied the foul-smelling paste to the wounds on the right side of his face. Wherever the paste was applied, it stung, but not as bad as Tetsu had anticipated it to. “How long have we been here?”

“They too, will eventually recover, though in the case of Okita-sensei, only time will tell,” the doctor replied. “According to the policemen's report to the government officials this morning, it has been ten days since the attacks were stopped. I've only arrived here six days ago to help aid the doctors in the region.”

“How...how many died?” he hesitatingly asked.

“Many, but not as many as was feared, according to the reports. The policemen said that the tide was turned to their favor when a sea of black-clad shadows appeared, spreading from the north-east and traveling all the way to the south. There were similar reports from Osaka and many neighboring cities. However, even before first light hit on the next day, the sea of shadows disappeared, and only the remains of the enemy and those who had been killed by the enemy before the tide turned, remained.”

“Black-clad shadow...” he murmured, but did not say anything else as he felt Saya put pressure on his left hand and saw her shaking her head no. Were the 'black-clad shadows' those long-forgotten shinobi clans that Aoshi and Okita had sent missives to for help? He knew that he would have to ask Susumu after Dr. Matsumoto left.

“Government officials from Tokyo have been wanting to question not only you, but many others in this room, but for now, I have driven them away to give you and your comrades here more rest. However, they know that a few of you are awake, and eventually they will come back. The nurses here will be able to provide you something nourishing to eat, and if you are feeling up to it, I can arrange a small amount of time later today for you to talk to the officials so that their curiosity may be sated for a while. Himura-san has already agreed to it, so you will not be facing them alone, Ichimura-san,” Dr. Matsumoto said, placing the bowl of paste back down, wiped his hands on a small cloth that was on the tray, and picked up the fresh bandages.

Ichimura let his wife's hands go as he clenched both of his hands into tight fists. They would want to know everything, especially about the past, but at the same time, he knew that he could not allow Himura to face the hounds of the government alone. Too much had happened in the past weeks, and all of them, from all walks of life and of different sides during the revolution, had been brought and bound tightly together. Himura and the others helped him when he thought there were no others to help, and he knew that he owed every person in the room his life. The least he could do for them was to face the government and tell them of what happened, to keep them away from the others so that they could heal in peace.

“I'll do it, Matsumoto-sensei,” he said, unclenching his hands as he gave a nod. “I just have one last question, though I don't know if you can answer it.” With the slight incline of the doctor's head to ask, he said, “What happened to the man named Kitamura Suzu?”

“The last I saw him was two days ago, when they last allowed me to ensure that the wounds he had sustained are healing. He is being held under guard and will be transferred to Tokyo once he is sufficiently recovered and I allow it.”

* * *

_Later that day..._

 

Kenshin quietly sighed with relief as the partition doors to the room that had been hastily constructed in this temporary hospital slid shut, leaving the various government officials that had traveled down from Tokyo to discuss amongst themselves of what had just been told. What little they had given Ichimura and him in that meeting was vague enough that he could only conclude that whatever drastic plan that the foreign agents had attempted in their insertion into Tokyo had not worked.

“Kenshin?” he heard Kaoru ask as he looked up to see that his wife, along with Ichimura's wife were waiting outside of the room for the two of them. Standing next to the two was Takani Megumi, whom Kenshin had found out had been one of the many doctors who had responded to the call for medical help in the region. During the first few hours after he had fully awoken from his injuries, Megumi had merely given him a stern look that spoke volumes on just how frustrated she was at him for what he had done.

However, the damage had already been done, and even now, after days of rest, he could still feel the acute aches in his body, and stiffness settling in. Even just trying to hold a mug had caused him quite a bit of discomfort in his hands. Dr. Matsumoto had told him that the pain and stiffness would never go away and that he would now have to start living with it, especially when the winter months would bring more pain.

“I'm fine, Kaoru,” he answered.

“Let's get the two of you back to your beds,” Megumi said, tsking. “Honestly, the officials should have waited longer than to pressure Matsumoto-sensei into asking the two of you to answer their questions. Hopefully, this will have satisfied them.”

“If they ever ask again--” Kaoru started, but was interrupted with the appearance of a nurse and three people at an intersection in the hall.

Kenshin saw both Ichimura and his wife stop, and stopped with them as the nurse and the three people approached, with the youngest of the three, a little girl, suddenly breaking off and ran towards them. “Otousan! Okaasan!” the girl squealed as she launched herself at Ichimura.

He had thought that Ichimura's daughter had died during the events of the past weeks, but it seemed not so. However, he did not puzzle over it as he stepped to the side and watched with a smile on his face as Ichimura crouched and swept his daughter up into his arms before twirling her around once. He could see that even that movement was causing Ichimura pain, but nothing on Ichimura's happy expression showed it. As the girl giggled and was placed down, the nurse brought the other two people, a man and woman, up to them and gave all of them a polite bow before leaving.

“Tatsu-nii,” Ichimura said in a fairly neutral tone as Ichimura's wife picked up the little girl and held her.

“Tetsu,” the man with short brown hair replied in an equally neutral tone. “I'm glad to see that you're still alive.”

“Yeah,” Ichimura replied, scratching the back of his head as an awkward silence settled between the two. “Good to see that you're still alive too, Tatsu-nii.”

Sensing that this was a private family matter, Kenshin, Kaoru, and Megumi attempted to leave, but the man had turned towards them and asked, “Sir, if you could wait a moment, the police told me what was going on and I would like to express my gratitude in helping my brother.”

“This one is Himura Kenshin. This one is humbled by your gratitude,” Kenshin said, feeling embarrassed as he saw Ichimura's elder brother bow quite deeply towards him.

“Himura?” the elder Ichimura questioned as he straightened up from his bow. “You look similar to someone I used to know, and I hope that you will forgive my impertinence, but did you happen to know of a boy named Himura Shinta? He lived around this region years ago.

“I knew of a Himura Shinta long ago,” he carefully said, managing to keep the shock from his eyes or color his voice. Only two people knew of his true name, Kaoru, and his master. It had been his master who had given him the name of Kenshin, telling him that 'Shinta' was too soft of a name to be carried upon a swordsman. How did the elder Ichimura know of his name?

“Ah ha ha,” the elder Ichimura said, giving an embarrassed laugh as he scratched the back of his head in a similar manner that the younger Ichimura had done only moments ago. “Where are my manners. I am terribly sorry for not introducing myself. I am Ichimura Tatsunosuke, and this is my wife, Hanako.”

“Please to meet both of you,” Kenshin said, bowing slightly in return as did Kaoru. He could see that Kaoru had a strange expression, but did not mention that 'Himura Shinta' was his true name out loud. Still, curiosity tugged at him and he asked, “Very few people know of Himura Shinta, how did you know?”

“Oh,” the elder Ichimura said, letting his hand drop from the back of his head. “Years ago, my father came home with news of an outbreak of cholera in the village where my mother's sister and her family lived. My aunt had married a man with the surname of Himura and they had a son about the same age as Tetsu here. My father and I went to find that family and found that his parents had died from the disease but he was missing. There were tracks around the village that suggested a group of people came through the area and may have collected survivors. Following the tracks, we found it ending in a field of wreckage that was surrounded by burial mounds. All but three had roughly tied branch-crosses as markers except for three mounds which had stones for their markers. We couldn't find the boy. I was wondering if you knew of him, since you and he look similar, though by now, he would be the same age as my brother here.”

Kenshin's eyes flew wide open in surprise as he stared at the elder Ichimura, paling with the implications from the story. He had very vague memories from when he was a child, and he certainly did not remember meeting any people that looked like the Ichimura family. But, the shade of red-brown hair that both he and the younger Ichimura sported was not as common as the darker shades of brown and black that most Japanese people had. So it was possible... and it didn't seem like the elder Ichimura had any ill will, and so cautiously curious, he said, “He is this one's name from long ago.”

“You're not serious, are you Tatsu-nii?” the younger Ichimura interjected, looking back and forth from him, Kenshin, to the elder Ichimura, mouth agape.

He felt Kaoru place a hand on his arm, but before the elder Ichimura could speak, he quietly said, feeling an odd but faint smile work its way up his lips, “I suppose that we are family then, Ichimura Tatsunosuke and Ichimura Tetsunosuke.” Gesturing to Kaoru, he continued, saying, “This is my wife, Kaoru.”

It was only because Megumi had cleared her throat quite loudly that he and the others stopped talking. “Ken-san, Tetsunosuke-san,” she said in a weary tone, “both of you are still recovering. I am doing my best not to bonk both of you on the head and have your wives drag your bodies back to the recovery ward, so if both of you would please...”

Kenshin nodded as he heard the younger Ichimura sigh a bit dejectedly. However, neither of them put up any protests, and with his Kaoru by his side, he turned to the Ichimura brothers and their families, saying, “We shall speak of this later, that we will.”

Walking down the rest of the hall, he could hear Megumi trying to usher the younger Ichimura to also go, though he could hear the echoes of the younger Ichimura now eagerly talking to his older brother. Whatever tension had been between the brothers was no longer there, and with the new revelation about the familial connection he had to the Ichimura family, he found himself walking with a lighter heart.

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the rest of the cast's fates will be revealed in the epilogue!
> 
> I squeed when I finally got the chance to write the famous Dr. Ryojun Matsumoto, a physician who studied western medicine at Nagasaki. Since he's a real-life historical character, here's a short bio about him: he served as the personal physician to the last Shogun, befriended Kondou Isami (and subsequently helped render medical assistance to the Shinsengumi), and also served as a field medic during the Boshin War. The Meiji government briefly detained/imprisoned him after the revolution, but he was freed through the efforts of Yamagata Aritomo.
> 
> Ever since I conceived the plot of this story, I was always hoping for the chance to write him in, even if it was a small, short part. Yay!


	22. Epilogue: Remnants

**Epilogue: Remnants**

_Present: Summer, 1879_

 

_Seventeen days after Kitamura Suzu was stopped..._

 

“That should do it!”

Susumu watched out of the corner of his eyes with a half-smile on his face as the young child who had been perched on the empty western bed hopped off and hurried to his parents who had been waiting at the entrance to the hospital. He continued to clean up the space that he had worked at; his patients having already left. He had been fairly impatient in the slow healing of his stomach wound, but as soon as Dr. Matsumoto had cleared him to get up, he had immediately begun helping his mentor and other doctors around the hospital.

The first order of business was to help create a cure for the children who had been poisoned by the western plant. However, even with Dr. Takani's help, he and Dr. Matsumoto only managed to create a stronger stop-gap that did not have as many debilitating side-effects as the initial one. The children also only had to take it at least twice a day, and would eventually be weaned off the stop-gap, with the hope that their bodies would eventually develop and accept the mixture of the poison and the stop-gap as normal.

With doctors and local law enforcement from around the region pouring into the major cities, Kyoto and Osaka saw a population explosion, along with effective law and order being imposed on the populace. Tokyo had also sent out a number of their own police force to cities affected by the incursion. It had been due to the diligence and work of the Imperial spy network and the policemen they coordinated with that Tokyo had not been infiltrated and had had their guard up as soon as several cities had fallen silent.

Kyoto was healing, and though the total count of casualties were high, at least half of the injured had pulled through and would eventually recover. The city's citizens and tourists who had stayed were also picking up the pieces of their lives, continuing on with their lives. The mayor of Kyoto had declared that they would resume fireworks as of tonight, celebrating the appreciation of what every person had done in their protection of the city. Officials had also declared that the next few days were dedicated to celebrating Obon.

Susumu had no ancestral grave to visit except for one that was buried just outside of Kyoto, still in the outskirts of the city, located within the Mibu village. His sister was still buried there, and it had been a long time since he had made the trek to pay her a visit. He still had one more patient to see before he knew that there would be some free time, and so he gathered the small bag that had all of his and placed it to the side.

Dr. Takani, who had seen to some of the children, was also cleaning her station, but he did not disturb her work, knowing that most doctors preferred to work with the relaxing silence hanging about, having spent most of their times in situations of crisis. However, after he gathered what he needed for his final patient of the day, he turned and asked, “Takani-sensei?”

“Yes, Yamazaki-sensei?” the young doctor asked, with a polite smile on her face. The Takani name in medicine was famous, and like Dr. Gensai, he had thought that all persons of the household had perished during the revolution. The fact that she had survived and learned how to become a doctor with no formal training, was in itself genius. In the past days in which he worked with the young doctor, he had seen that she had innate knowledge, most likely brought on by her early training when she had been a young child. Even Dr. Matsumoto had been quite impressed.

Susumu saw a very bright and successful future for the young doctor, though he could see the shades of loneliness in her eyes, along with a longing for someone that seemed out of reach. It was the same kind of look that he had seen in Tetsu's eyes during the latter half of the revolution, especially when the Shinsengumi had withdrawn from Kyoto and Tetsu was separated from Saya. He hoped that whoever Dr. Takani was thinking of would eventually return to her.

“If you would please inform Matsumoto-sensei when he returns from the docks, that I will be running a personal errand this afternoon for a couple of hours, I'd appreciate it,” he said, bowing.

“I will,” she agreed.

“Thank you,” he said, picking up the small tray of items and left. Down the halls of the temporary hospital, he passed empty rooms, with patients having recovered and moved to a more comfortable location to continue recovering. He didn't know when the hospital would be torn down, but he hoped that perhaps, it would not be, for there was good in keeping something like this in Kyoto, augmenting local clinics that dotted around the city.

Most, if not all of the people that had been placed in the circular room that he had initially woken up in several days ago, had already been discharged from the hospital, though as far as he knew, everyone was still around Kyoto. There was only one person that had not been released just yet, and that person had been moved to a private room to recover some more.

As he approached the room, he heard voices coming from the room, though they were muffled. Visitors were allowed in the patient's room, provided that they did not stay long and allowed the patient to rest as much as possible. After many days of observation and tests run with the experimental herbal medicine, both Dr. Matsumoto and him were confident that the disease wracking Okita Souji's body was still contained. However, given what the swordsman had done during the defense of Kyoto and what had happened in the middle of the battles, Dr. Matsumoto had told Okita that his coughing symptoms would never fully go away now and that he would never fully recover whatever strength he had prior to this. Winters would be crippling to him, and it had not been said, but Susumu had seen it in Okita's eyes – the man understood that even if the disease had been halted, his body would eventually succumb to the wounds inflicted on the inside. As for how long Okita had to live, even Dr. Matsumoto did not know.

Still, even in the face of such depressing news, the swordsman stayed positive, and remained as he had been, with a sunny disposition. It had caused Susumu to wonder if that disposition had been permanently etched onto Okita's psyche, but he did not ask, for he knew that mentally, the swordsman was well.

He suddenly felt stomping footsteps approach and a second later, the door-partition to the room slammed open, and Yuki stormed past him, eyes ablaze with anger. Moments later, the boy broke into a run and surprised at the action of such a normally cheerfully curious, but impatient child, Susumu poked his head into the room.

Okita was sitting up on the western bed, looking much healthier and rosier than the stark white sheets that covered him, wrapped in the hospital's white yukata. A men's summer yukata was neatly folded and placed on the end of the bed, with the small wooden stand on the left side of the bed empty, waiting for the items that he, Susumu, was bringing. Sitting on a western chair on the other side was Aya, who was dressed in a plain, but light-colored summer kimono, a far cry from what he remembered she usually wore during this time of the year. Susumu remembered that each summer during their time in the Shinsengumi, she had persistently worn a dark-colored yukata, as if she were constantly protesting the cheerful atmosphere of summer festivals in Kyoto. It was extremely strange for him to see her dressed in such colors as she wore now.

However, that strangeness was short-lived as he saw that both of them carried expressions that were a cross between frustration and sadness. Something had happened that involved Yuki, and as he entered, he said, “Pardon the intrusion, Okita-sensei. I've come to perform the last of your checkups. Matsumoto-sensei says that you're well enough to leave.”

He saw Aya briefly touch Okita's hand before she got up and silently left. As the partition slid close, he placed the tray down on the small stand. “Is everything all right with your apprentice?” he asked as he mixed the crushed herbs prepared the medication.

“My son will need some time to himself, but I believe that he will be fine,” Okita said, accepting the small packet of mixed herbs.

Susumu nearly dropped the mug of warm water he was passing to the swordsman as the words hit him. Fortunately, Okita had taken the mug and was already taking the medication as he thought about what had just been said. _Son..._ it was not the inflection of a man who had adopted a child, that he, Susumu, had heard but the inflection of someone who was the biological father. Aya was Yuki's mother, that was quite obvious, since Yuki looked a lot like his mother. But to think that Okita was Yuki's father...well, it certainly did explain why Yuki had stormed out of the room earlier.

The boy had grown up without a father, and to hear that the master he had looked up to as a father-figure was actually his father... Susumu could not blame the boy for being so angry at the deceit. However, there was another pressing issue that caused Susumu to worry. Mentally calculating the boy's age, he glanced over and received back the empty packet and mug from Okita and as he set both items down on the tray, he closed his eyes briefly. Had it been the foolishness of youth or the last desperate walls of iron will disintegrating that caused Yuki to be conceived all those years ago? He didn't know, and didn't want to know, for it was none of his business.

“I needn't tell you this,” he said, opening his eyes again, “but I will. What happened between you and Aya all those years ago was very dangerous. She's very lucky that she did not contract your disease, given the proximity.”

Okita was silent, and Susumu let the matter drop. There was no further need to berate his patient, and he didn't feel like it anyways. War always had a pronounced negative effect upon the mental psyche, and there were countless amounts of time where he saw his fellow Shinsengumi members try to find some modicum of comfort, even for a night, in the arms of anyone willing to accept them. Instead, he continued to say, “Let's examine you and make sure that everything is healing nicely.”

His examination of his patient did not take long, for even though Okita still had some bandages wrapped around his arms, and his back wound was healing quite nicely, there was no need of any immediate medical attention. He could see that not only did the swordsman verbally say he felt stronger, Okita looked stronger. As soon as he was done ensuring that his patient was in good health, he gathered up the tray and items.

“Thank you for everything, Yamazaki-sensei,” Okita said.

“Just continue to take care of your self,” he said, giving the dojo master a smile. “And please, no more running around like you did.”

When he emerged from the room, sliding the partition shut, he saw Aya standing next to the door, with a patient look on her face. Without preamble, she said in her usual brisk tone, “I was about to resign as spymaster of the Kyoto police force, but I received a transfer order from Yamagata Aritomo, Chief of the Imperial Army. Tokyo is where I am being transferred to.”

“What about your son...and Okita-sensei?” he asked, with a feeling that he already knew the answer.

“Souji and I will be marrying. As for my...our son, the decision to follow us to Tokyo will he his alone. He may not yet be fifteen, but he is old enough to decide what he wants to do, now that there are no secrets between any of us anymore,” she said, though Susumu could hear the melancholy in the tone of her voice when mentioning the boy.

“Congratulations,” he said, not only for her impending marriage, but also for her transfer. He could see that after everything they had been though, his long-time friend had finally achieved a small measure of peace. Remnants of a distant past were starting to fade, and there was a sense of hope in the air for the future ahead.

* * *

_A half an hour later..._

 

“I've never known you to be shy, Reika,” Tokio teased as she and her former bodyguard sat in the shade of a large tree just outside of the hospital. Her friend had taken a break from her duties inside of the hospital and she, Tokio, had just happened to bump into her.

Hajime was busy briefing government officials and other officers on what had happened, along with wrapping up the numerous amounts of reports and paperwork just to document what had happened. She also suspected that her husband did not want to stay any longer or anywhere near the hospital, having endured at least eleven days of lying on the western beds and trying to get better, before finally getting cleared by Dr. Matsumoto to leave. In the seventeen days since Kitamura Suzu had been stopped, she had gone around, helping wherever she could, and even though many parts of Kyoto were still being rebuilt from the fire, all-in-all, the city looked like it was on the mend.

“He's...ever since we met in the same training class as kids, he's always been special to me,” Reika admitted, coloring slightly in the cheeks. “What if he doesn't want to watch the fireworks tonight with me?”

Tokio sighed, shaking her head slightly. To think that this woman sitting next to her was one of the best bodyguards, always professionally stoic and proud, and was now acting uncharacteristically shy; it made her laugh. “You'll never know if you don't try to ask,” she encouraged.

However, before she could say any further words to support her friend's sudden lack of confidence, Dr. Yamazaki emerged from the hospital, dressed not in the smocks of a doctor, but in a regular, dark-colored summer yukata. Discreetly placing a hand on Reika's back, she gave the herbalist a push in the direction of the handsome doctor, smiling as the movement had caught the doctor's eye.

Standing up herself, she gave a wave to the two of them and left, mentally wishing her former bodyguard the best of luck. When she got to the end of the street, she turned and briefly watched the conversation between Dr. Yamazaki and Reika turn from a normal one to one of joy. The smile on her lips got wider, as she saw her friend uncharacteristically give the doctor a big hug before jumping back, coloring bright red. Leaving the two alone, she continued on her way.

Her own husband, even though busy in the past few days, had told her that he had received direct transfer orders from Yamagata Aritomo only two days ago. He was to be transferred back to Tokyo as soon as he was done with wrapping things up in Kyoto. Though most of the house that they lived in, in Kyoto was almost completely packed, there were still a few things at the Aoiya that had not been packed yet, and so that was her destination.

At this time of day, it was just pass the midday meal hours, and as she gingerly stepped into the Aoiya, marveling at the comfortable coolness of its interior, it was in the corner of the restaurant that she saw two people sitting around a large table. Kashiwazaki Nenji and the young boy, Matsumoto Yukimura. However discreet she was about attempting to go upstairs to retrieve her items, the proprietor of the Aoiya had seen her and surprisingly, beckoned her over.

“If you would pardon my presumptuousness,” the old proprietor began as she sat, “but I would assume that as a lady of a high-born samurai family, that you served as a vassal to the Shogun and might've had dealings with the Okita family. Yuki-kun here would like to know more about his father, Okita Souji.”

Tokio managed to keep most of the shock from being expressed on her face, as she absorbed the news. Looking over towards the young boy, she saw a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes, and recognized it to be similar to what her own sons displayed whenever things were not going the way they had thought it to be. She could only sympathize at how frustrated and angry the young boy must be, especially if he had just found out his own heritage. Of what she knew of the reticent Matsumoto Aya and of Okita Souji, she understood that both of them had difficulty expressing their emotions, especially Souji, and it must've hurt Yuki a lot to have finally found out about his parentage.

Her gaze turned from the boy towards the proprietor. However shrewd Kashiwazaki was with how he knew of her heritage, it was also not entirely correct. “Actually,” she said, “the Takagi family were indirect vassals to the Shogun. My family were vassals to the Okita family via a trade agreement. I do know of Okita-san and I would be willing to tell you about him.” She turned towards Yuki, saying, “You may strongly detest your master right now, Yukimura-kun, but know this: Okita-san has always been a good man.”

The anger in the boy's eyes died slightly, and it was with that, that she began to tell him about the days of old...

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

 

Even though the six of them were in a grove of bamboo, one of the many locations that had formerly served as a training ground to the Oniwabanshuu based in Kyoto, the quiet atmosphere did nothing to calm Aoshi's mind. The former training ground had been converted into a small, unmarked gravesite, and it would remain that way forever, if he could help it. Still, it was the best place for them to be right now, and it was here that he would tell Misao of why he had taken a very keen personal interest in the poisonings – and of why the Oniwabanshuu had not wanted her involved in the investigation.

Masukami, Oumime, Shiroujou, and Kuroujou, were patiently sitting in seiza around the grove, with their eyes closed in meditation. Old man Okina was back at the Aoiya, already deep in a quiet discussion with Yukimura, by the time Aoshi had asked Misao to come with him to the bamboo grove.

Misao's initial enthusiasm was expected, and it had refreshed him, but he wondered and worried that what he was about to say would break her heart. He knew that he could've left the issue at hand well alone and continue to let her go about their lives in ignorance, but he loved her too much to keep it from her. She was now quietly sitting in the grove, with her initial happiness tempered with the knowledge that this was not a private outing with just him alone.

“Misao,” he said, sitting opposite of her and breaking the silence, as he saw the others open their eyes. “We...I need to tell you why I did not want you involved in the poisoning investigation. It involves incidents that happened long ago, when your grandfather tested me for the position of _Okashira_.”

He paused, and in that moment, Misao unexpectedly threw herself at him, embracing him fiercely. He hesitated for a moment before putting his arms around her as she whispered in his ear, “Whatever you will say, its all right. I will still love you.”

The two of them stayed like that, in each others arms for a few long moments before Aoshi gently pushed her back. Knowing that it was already hard for him to continue on, she obeyed the silent request and untangled herself. Sitting back, she composed herself and waited patiently for him to speak.

“When the position of _Okashira_ is awarded, there is usually a test initiated by the previous holder of the title to determine if the successor is able to carry out his or her duties,” he began. “The test that your grandfather determined was to kill one of twenty shinobi within our ranks. The target determined by your grandfather was your mother, Machimaki Haruka.”

* * *

_A few hours later..._

 

Kenshin slowly let his breath go as he patiently stood in the cell area, studying the person who was sitting opposite of him. Only thick bars of criss-crossed steel, covered in rust, grime, dirt, and mold separated them, but even in the firelight glinting off the, he did not feel any danger. However, even in defeat, Kitamura Suzu's eyes were still ablaze with maniacal fury that gave his dirty, unkempt look a menacing demeanor.

There were no others in this cell area, with all of the shinobi who had surrendered or had been captured being held elsewhere. He didn't know if or when Kitamura was going to be transported to Tokyo, but it probably would be soon, for all the wounds that the pale-haired man had sustained were almost all healed. This would be his final opportunity to see or speak with the man.

Ever since finding out about his familial connection with the Ichimura family, he had heard from the elder Ichimura brother, Tatsunosuke, about the 'cholera' incident that had claimed his parents' lives. He had also heard of all other incidents that had befallen the Shinsengumi with regards to the poison used, as told by Tetsunosuke. One of which had been the incident that had claimed the life of Misao's grandfather, the _Okashira_ of the Oniwabanshuu before Aoshi ascended to the position.

He also realized that Misao did not know of that incident, even though she had been central to it, and thus he had not said anything to her about it. She was young enough to have it fade from her memories, and to him, it was a good thing. It also seemed that none of the Oniwabanshuu wanted to mention it.

“Had you won, Kitamura, what would you have done afterward?” he quietly asked, focusing his attention back on the man, trying to ignore as much of the persistent ache crawling along his body as much as possible. He only had a few minutes to talk with the prisoner, though with the vagueness of Saitou's actions at the entrance of the police station, he wasn't sure if those were guaranteed minutes or not.

“I would've joined my master in hell and watched the entire world tear itself apart with those foreign agents,” Kitamura growled.

“Was it worth it?” he questioned. “Was this all worth it?”

“Every single blood that I spilled was worth it,” the pale-haired man said, giving him a devilish grin that bordered on the insane.

With his heart unsettled and uneasy in lingering here, Kenshin sighed. There was no balm for him to help sooth what he should have done years ago, and he knew that even though he wanted to help Kitamura get better, there was no helping this man. Kitamura was far gone, further than what Enishi had been; entirely consumed by his own madness. Enishi had the spirit of his sister to snap him out of his madness – this man had nothing more than the black pit of hatred.

He turned and approached the door. Before he opened it, he turned slightly back and said, “I hope that you may find some peace in your next life, Kitamura Suzu.”

It was to the howls of anger mixed with a chilling laughter that he closed the door to the cell area to and quietly left the empty police station. Outside, he found Saitou standing in the shade of a tree, with a cigarette in his mouth and hands holding a few leaflets of paper. The spymaster, Matsumoto Aya, was standing a bit ways away, discussing something with another officer. He was grateful for the fact that the building had been cleared,even though he had not expected his conversation with Kitamura to be private. As soon as he emerged, he caught the Saitou's gaze and gave him a nod.

No words were exchanged between the two of them and though Kenshin had a feeling that he would see Saitou in the future again, he did not linger and instead, turned and started walking down the street. As he walked along the streets of Kyoto, headed towards the Aoiya, he reveled in the sounds that surrounded the area. The constant tapping of carpenters, along with the cries of vendors selling their wares, tourists and natives alike bartering, and even children running around, filled the air. Life was being breathed back into Kyoto after the devastation that had been wrought.

Kaoru and him had gone up to Arashiyama to go visit his master the day before, and tomorrow, they would be headed to Osaka via a generously provided carriage courtesy of a grateful Yamagata Aritomo. From Osaka, he and his wife would be finally headed home on a ship to Tokyo. He didn't know of the plans of the others, but it seemed that each had their own things to do, and though he would've liked to stay and continue to help and learn about his new found extended family, Kyoto still held too many terrible memories.

It didn't take him long to reach the Aoiya and as he approached the restaurant-inn, he could hear boisterous voices coming out from it. Leaving his sandals at the door, he entered, and to his surprise, saw Sawagejou Chou, at the center of the hubbub, surrounded by all of the Oniwabanshuu members, along with the Ichimura family, Kaoru, Tokio, Yukimura, the herbalist Reika, Dr. Yamazaki, and Okita.

“Ah, Battousai,” Chou said, giving him a lazy look, “took you long enough to get here.”

He ignored the jab as he took a seat next to his wife, and listened. It seemed that the ex-Juppongatana was informing them of the results of the investigation. As he listened, a chill crawled down his back, seemingly augmenting the constant ache, but he ignored it in lieu of the knowledge of just how close they had been to defeat. Though the foreign agents that had been in Kyoto had been stopped, other cities had not been as lucky as they had. Osaka had also been one of the lucky few to also escape as nearly unscathed as Kyoto had. Forces in Sendai, Toyama, Himeji, and many other cities had almost been completely defeated and only had been saved when the ancient alliance of numerous shinobi clans had arrived. The island of Hokkaido had been the only area untouched, due to their proximity to Russia.

It was only because of Tokyo's vigilance and the Imperial spy network that not one foreign agent had survived in their infiltration assault on the city. Most of the foreign agents had been executed, but some had been kept alive and interrogated. The information yielded traced back to opium cartels in China and Japan, both of whom were funneled through western powers, though officially, diplomats had vehemently denied their countries' involvement.

Some countries even offered help to rebuild but that had been rebuffed by the Emperor for now. None of the diplomats had been expelled from Japan just yet, but all foreigners coming in for the past days had been carefully scrutinized. Kenshin briefly wondered if their encounter with the greedy opium dealer, Takeda Kanryuu, was a precursor to this entire incident.

“So that just about sums it up,” Chou said, and after a moment, stood up, stretching.

It was the whinny of horses and the clatter of their hooves, along with the sounds of a carriage being stopped that drew those in the Aoiya's attention to the entrance. Curious, Kenshin was among those who stood and approached, for the sounds of those outside were a mix of Japanese and foreign. A moment later, several police officers, immaculately dressed in their dark uniforms and pristine white gloves entered.

“Irasshaimase,” the old proprietor of the Aoiya said, taking the forefront, “how may we help you?”

“Ah, pardon the intrusion, Kashiwazaki-san,” a familiar voice said, and moments later, Kenshin couldn't help but smile as he saw a hale and healthy-looking Yamagata Aritomo enter the restaurant-inn. Yamagata, dressed in the familiar Imperial Army uniform that he remembered seeing before, removed his cap as the police escort around him stood at attention. However, a rather tall and bushy-bearded foreigner, dressed in a uniform that he did not recognize, followed Yamagata in. Kenshin also saw two shadows discreetly following them, and recognized them to be Saitou and Matsumoto, both of whom were in uniform also.

“Buruneto-san!”

That exclamation had come from the younger Ichimura brother, and Kenshin saw Tetsunosuke come to the front, eyes wide with shock. “You survived!”

“That I did, Ichimura,” the foreigner said, though with his thick accent and hesitation in trying to speak the Japanese language, it was a bit hard for Kenshin to understand what he was saying.

“We apologize for the intrusion into your lives,” Yamagata took over just as Ichimura took a step forward, about to offer a hand to shake with the foreigner. The man aborted his actions, but there was a curious look on his face, as Yamagata continued, saying “but this was the only time we knew that you would be gathered together. On behalf of the Emperor, we would like to thank all of you for your contributions to the defense of not only the city, but to the people.”

Grateful, but clearly embarrassed, especially when he saw Yamagata bow towards them for a brief moment, there were some among the gathered who had taken to shuffling their feet or scratching their heads. However, Kenshin could see that the policemen around were alert and he could feel the presences of many curious people outside, naturally drawn towards the commotion of a high-ranking official making an unexpected stop. Both Saitou and Matsumoto had turned from the spectacle inside of the Aoiya and faced outside to ensure that the crowds would not be a problem.

As soon as Yamagata straightened himself, the foreigner took a step forward and said, “I am _Jules Brunet_ , and on behalf of my country, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for the trouble that had been caused. Rogue agents from my country along with others illegally infiltrated Japan, and we have waived all rights in extradition for those caught.”

The foreigner did not bow, but merely stepped back, though Kenshin saw him glance over at Yamagata for a moment before the bespectacled man sagely nodded. Turning to one of the policemen, he gestured with a hand, and the policeman approached, carrying something long in a bag. Gingerly handing it over to the foreigner, Kenshin saw him carefully untie the bag before pulling on the end of it, revealing two swords, a daishio pair. One was a katana, and the other a wakizashi, both sheathed in deep, glossy black scabbard. The hilt of both swords was also wrapped in black, though there was an underlying weave of white that accentuated the hilts of the blades, which were in a sunburst pattern.

“Ichimura Tetsunosuke,” the foreigner said, in an apologetic tone, “I meant not to do this so publicly, but I do not know if I will have time again, so now is better than never. These belonged to Hijikata. He would have wanted you to have this, to remind you that though it was swords that created this country, it was through your actions as a translator and peacemaker during our time in the Ezo Republic, that saw that ideal flourish.”

Kenshin heard the soft rustling of cloth and saw that Tetsunosuke was wiping his eyes clear of tears before taking the few steps forward to close the distance. He saw him reach out and gingerly take the swords, cradling them as if they were a child in his arms. It was then that Kenshin realized just how much of an emotional toll the entire incident had taken on Tetsunosuke, and how much of a facade he had put up to not cause anyone else to worry so much about him.

With a sad smile, he realized that he and Tetsunosuke were not that different – the revolution had shaped them both, cast them on opposite sides, and even then, both sides were only fighting for the ideals they believed in. However, peace for each and every one of them had not been easy to achieve, but now, he hoped that perhaps there would be some for the years to come. He knew though, that whatever the future held, there would be those around him, ready to protect and keep the peace.

* * *

_A few days later..._

 

Colorful explosions of light filled the air, with the booming sounds following a moment later, but it was in the near-silence of the police station that Saitou sat, reading over a report that had just been rushed to his desk. Though he and his wife were to begin their journey back to Tokyo, with all things wrapped up here, crises never seemed to end around the city.

The latest incident, however, did not occur within Kyoto, but outside of it – more specifically, on a small rural road where no others should have known where the carriage and the prisoners it transported, were going. He inhaled the cigarette hanging from his mouth quite deeply as he continued to read the report. Tokyo had sent it, but had not ordered him to investigate the incident; there were already other officers on the scene.

With Himura Battousai and his wife already returned to Tokyo, there was no other person that he knew who knew of the potential culprit involved in this particular incident. Yamazaki and the herbalist, Takahashi Reika, were already on their way to Tokyo, having left only a day ago. Matsumoto, newly engaged to Okita, had also left for the capitol, taking her son along, which meant that she was out of communication for another few days. He couldn't be bothered with any of the Ichimura family, for he knew that they had no knowledge of the potential culprit. Of the Oniwabanshuu, Shinomori Aoshi was the only other person he could ask, but knew that the ex- _Okashira_ was busy rebuilding the Imperial spy network within Kyoto, having been nominated by Matsumoto as her successor to the task.

Tightening a hand on the report he was reading, he glanced over at the candle that lit the desk, noting that the wax and wick were nearly burned away. There was nothing he could do here, and he could only hope that reports of Kitamura Suzu's transfer via oceanic routes were successful. The fact that Kitamura's decoy and other prisoners that had been transported via secured and heavily guarded carriages, had all died without the guardsmen knowing was not good. There was only one person he knew that could attempt that level of assassination, and it had been proven with Minister Okubou Toshimichi's death last year (even though other disgruntled former samurai claimed otherwise).

There was only one Juppongatana member that had not been accounted for in the aftermath of Shishio's rampage. Seta Soujirou, the boy who was the right hand of Shishio and the only swordsman that possessed an unmatchable God-like speed.

 

~*~*~*~

 

FINI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, Jules Brunet didn't get pardoned by the Japanese government until the early 1880s. Even then, it was only through Admiral Enomoto, a former ally of his, who facilitated his pardon. However, this being an alternate universe and historical fiction, I wanted Tetsu to have some semblance of peace in his life. As for the daisho that Brunet presented, yes, Yamagata lets Tetsu keep the swords, on the condition that they are never to be used or displayed in public.
> 
> As for my final notes, I want to thank every one of my readers, especially those who have commented and/or given me kudos. I also want to thank Shadow Chaser for having the patience to be my beta reader. Though there might be a sequel fic to this, given the ending, I plan on going back to the past, and flesh out back stories, especially for Okita, Yamazaki, Hijikata, Takagi Tokio, and the Oniwabanshuu in this crossover universe that I've created. I also hope to eventually post the short-story about the Battle of Shiroyama (featuring Tetsu, Saitou, and Yamazaki...with a possible cameo by Kenshin).
> 
> Thanks and see you on the next fic!


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